


history (and everything that came after)

by edbloom



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Strangers to Friends, friends to strangers, microbiology, science talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:00:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 28,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25097245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edbloom/pseuds/edbloom
Summary: Huang Renjun just wanted to pass—he wasn't expecting his new tutor to be an ex-friend.Much less one that was his cousin's ex.
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun/Lee Donghyuck | Haechan
Comments: 13
Kudos: 101
Collections: Renhyuck Fic Fest Round 1





	history (and everything that came after)

**Author's Note:**

> Holy moly!!
> 
> This is a beast of fic and honestly, its the most i've written in a long time.
> 
> i enjoyed writing this so much so i hope that y'all enjoy reading it!!
> 
> \- ely!!

Microbiology is the bane of Renjun’s existence. 

See, it wasn’t always the case but between his subpar assessments during this semester and the absolute shitshow of a paper he’s passing right now—he’s not having a good time.

Mr. Kim spares him a glance as he places his paper on the pile. His professor had been giving him pitying glances the moment he started his assessment—maybe, it’s the way Renjun forgot to disinfect the inoculating loop or the way he had prepared the wrong Agar medium. Or maybe, it was the second part; the part where he had to look under a microscope and identify the bacteria—Renjun swears, the third bacteria he had to observe wasn’t even a bacteria. 

He ignores Mr. Kim as he picks up his bag from his seat before making his way out of the laboratory.

Don’t get him wrong—he knew he’d have a lot to memorize when he chose the Medicine path for college, knew he’d sign up for hell the moment he clicked apply, knew he was utterly fucked when he received an acceptance letter back. But nothing— absolutely nothing— prepared him for Microbiology.

The way he had to memorize tens of bacteria; how they look like, what disease they caused, where they can be found. You might as well have looked Renjun in the eye and told him how much his dreams meant nothing, and how he should start running back to China. He knew Microbiology was important. He wasn’t that dense. But it was hard. Extremely hard. And Renjun was just a poor, small boy in a foreign country all alone—

“I’m baby,” he tells Jaemin, his roommate and best friend, when the other finds him curled up in a ball on his bed with his Moomin plushie tucked in his embrace, and asks him what he was sulking— pouting— about.

“You’re failing,” Jaemin counters once Renjun mutters the cursed words to him. He feels a whine spill through his lips when he turns his head to Jaemin, glaring at him. Jaemin sits on his desk with an eyebrow raised and his arms crossed.

“I know, Min,” Renjun groans, shuffling to fully face Jaemin. “I’m just having a hard time. Absolutely nothing sticks and it’s frustrating.” 

Renjun doesn’t know what he’s been doing wrong; he has followed every advice in the book and yet every night, he still bears the weight of disappointment when he gets his labworks back. 

“Did you ask your prof about tutoring?” Jaemin asks, opening his laptop. Renjun lets out a loud groan at the word ‘tutoring.’

“You know how I feel about that.” Renjun swears the frown on his lips isn’t a pout.

“And once again, Junnie,” Jaemin sighs, turning to him again. An eyebrow raised as he tries to prove his point—Renjun has to say, the glare is far from convincing. “You don’t even know if he’s back. Much more, if he’s available for tutoring.”

“He could be,” Renjun insists.

“Really?” Jaemin chuckles, a mocking tinge hidden between his teeth. “He’s probably too busy preparing for his thesis.”

“It’s the first semester,” Renjun says, resigned that Jaemin won’t be letting this go anytime soon. He turns back to the wall, in an attempt to shut the conversation. 

“Yeah and it’s Donghy—”

“I’m not listening, Jaemin,” Renjun whines, covering his ears. “I’m not listening.”

Jaemin sighs—loud and tired before he chucks one of his plushies at Renjun. “Just ask your professor for a tutor, Junnie.”

—

Renjun met Jaemin during their freshman year of college.

Bright-eyed and in love with the prospects of studying abroad, he knocked on the door of Room 119. A rushed ‘come in!’ was heard from inside; something in Renjun bristled at the idea of already meeting his roommate. He felt nervous—refreshing random Korean words in his head just to calm himself down before he opened the door.

The door revealed a barren dorm except for the cardboard boxes littered on the floor and the brown-haired boy sticking pictures on the right side of the room. The boy looked at him with a smile before putting down the pictures on his bed. He made his way to Renjun—anxiety bubbled in his chest and the sweat started to build in his palms. Renjun tried to push it aside—the boy didn’t look like he was going to hurt him, much less say something mean. So he pushed the anxiety aside and set a wobbly smile on his lips.

“Hi! Nice to meet you,” the boy reached his hand out, a smile still on his lips. “I’m Na Jaemin.”

“I’m Huang Renjun,” Renjun said and shook Jaemin’s hand. His smile widened when Renjun took his hand with no hesitation. He didn’t need to know how much Renjun’s insides were churning or how his lungs were one incident away from convulsing into itself. “Nice to meet you too.”

“I hope we get along well, Renjun.” Jaemin smiled again and Renjun had a feeling he’d never get sick of seeing that smile in a long while.

“I don’t see why not, Jaemin.”

—

Renjun should have never agreed to what Jaemin told him. He ponders on the possible jail time he could get for murdering his best friend as he sat on the doorstep of their dorm. 

“Let me in!” He yells, foregoing any need for shame as students walked through the hallway in front of him. A few glanced at him strangely but he didn’t have time to regret his choices. He has more important matters at hand.

“No! Not until you talk to your professor.” This boy is getting on his damn nerves.

“But I’m tired, Nana! Let me sleep,” he wonders if Jaemin could hear the pout on his lips. He probably could, Renjun guesses, considering Renjun used the nickname he gave him the first time Jaemin cuddled him after a breakdown.

“That isn’t gonna work, Junnie!” He feels a grumble crawl up from the bottom of his throat. “Talk to your professor!” _So much for trying to gain his sympathy_.

It’s not like it was hard talking to his Microbiology professor, sir Lee was actually very nice, contrary to popular belief and his resting bitch face. It’s just Renjun has a hard time admitting he needs help— isn’t anything serious, really, just has to be the Aries in his blood. Also, it’s the fact that he didn’t really know anyone in the Biology department— if professor Lee decides to look for tutors in his own department. He knows one person and Renjun prays they aren’t in Seoul right now.

Even if he was, Renjun isn’t sure he’d be willing to ask him for help, much less see him.

But that was whatever, Renjun wills his thoughts away from that path—because truthfully, he’d rather not. Plus, he has a professor to talk to. He’d rather get this over with now, more than later.

So Renjun sits up, packs up his dignity in a small box, dusts his pants, and makes his way to the Biology department’s office. _With confidence_ , Renjun adds. _Faux confidence but confidence nonetheless_.

—

The next person Renjun met was Jeno during his first Zoology class.

The lecture hall was packed by the time it was 1:55 pm—Renjun wondered how early everyone got here and if it was going to be this full every single lecture. He wandered through the upper sections of the hall, looking for an empty seat that was still near the front. 

Renjun saw his saving grace, an empty seat in the second row of the upper section. It was the perfect spot except—it was beside a scary looking black-haired boy. He could almost feel the bile rise up his throat. _Big boy pants, Jun, big boy pants_ , he thought as he swallowed back his nerves. Renjun gathered every ounce of courage he had before he made his way to the seat. 

“Hi—uh,” Renjun stuttered with a nervous smile. The boy looked at him, a serious yet attentive glint in his eyes. His spit started to taste like bile again. “Is anyone sitting here?”

The boy took a few minutes to look him over—which by the way, did nothing to help Renjun’s coward ass before he spoke in a soft voice. “No, the seat’s free.”

“Thanks,” Renjun said, putting his bag down on the space in front of his seat. The boy looked back at his phone as Renjun sat down.

After a few minutes, the class’s professor walked into the hall—gray haired and square glasses. She greeted the class with an enthusiastic ‘good morning!’ and a kind smile. Renjun smiled—she reminded him of his grandmother. _Mrs. Yang_ , was how she introduced herself as before she started on the syllabus.

Renjun reached over for a spare notebook and his pencil case. He started writing everything down when he felt a tap on his left.

“Hey,” the scary looking boy said. Renjun’s throat almost dropped to his ass. “Can I borrow a pencil?” 

_Wait, this I can do_ , he thought before taking a pencil from his case. “Sure,” Renjun said, reaching it over to the boy.

“Thanks,” he said—there was a hesitance in his actions before he faced Renjun again, this time with a smile. “I’m Jeno.”

“Renjun.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too.”

—

Renjun makes it almost a few feet away from the Biology department when he feels his anxiety bubble at the pit in his stomach. His breathing starts to go shallow and the start of a heartburn makes its way to his chest.

_God, what a coward_ , Renjun thinks before pushing himself to take the needed steps to the office. Every step feels like carrying a 50 pound anchor on each foot but he gets there eventually. He faces the office door with a determined look and a book length monologue in his brain of how _easy_ this is and how he is the _Shit_ for attempting to do this. He needs the pep talk and if Jaemin wasn’t here to provide then he would gladly hype himself up himself.

Renjun knocks on the door with a clenched jaw. A quick shout of _come in_ puts his motivational speech to a screeching halt, and his heart starts pounding _harder_. He opens the door a notch, and quickly scans the room before meekly letting out a “good morning” and a bow.

He scurries to the table where he sees Mr. Lee on his computer. His head looking down and his hand on each side, he’s never been to the Biology department’s office before and he doesn’t know a lot about the department, in general. _The faster I get this over with, the quicker I can forget this ever happened_.

“Good morning, Mr. Lee,” Renjun says with a light smile. Mr. Lee looks up at him with his own, “Oh, good morning, Mr. Huang.”

He raises an eyebrow in a silent question like _what do you need_ , and it jump-starts Renjun’s brain—that’s his cue to speak. With his heartbeat doing circus acts and his breathing growing more shallow as seconds passes, he thinks, _here goes absolutely nothing_ , and shuts his brain off.

“Well, sir, I’ve been having a really hard time with the past couple of lessons in our Microbio laboratory–”

“Oh yes, I’ve actually been meaning to talk to you about that,” Mr. Lee pulls out papers from his drawer. Renjun can only guess it was his laboratory work from Mr. Kim. “You’ve been flunking your practicals this quarter, and Mr. Kim came to me because he was worried it would affect your grades,” he scans through Renjun’s works, and the only reason Renjun isn’t passed out by now is because of his very smart choice to turn a deaf ear to his landslide of thoughts.

“Yeah, I haven’t been getting the best results, sir, considering how well I did during the first quarter,” Renjun fiddles with his thumbs as he pushes the next words out of his mouth. “That’s why I’ve been meaning to ask, if you have any students who’re available for tutoring.”

Mr. Lee takes a few minutes to think before pulling out his record book, “I think I do—I’ll get back to you on that one, Mr. Huang.” He scans through it briefly before stopping on a page.

“Thank you, sir,” Renjun bows, quickly. His skin itching to get away from the office as soon as possible.

“You’re welcome, Mr. Huang,” Renjun bows again before practically running out of the office.

He needs two bottles of vodka mix and gin to forget that ever happened.

  
  


—

It was a hot day in August when Renjun found himself in one of the library desks studying for his Ethics class. His short haired and round-glasses-ed professor, Ms. Yewon, gave them their syllabus in advance so they could advance-study their heart out—which, in Renjun’s mind, was a pretty cool thing to do. 

In the middle of analyzing Socratic lessons and how he managed to influence tens of philosophers, Renjun noticed something etched into the solo desk he had chosen that day. In red ballpoint ink, a number and a message sat at the very end of the table.

_What?_

Renjun—now completely distracted from his notes—shifted closer to read the scribble under the number. A smile involuntarily appeared on his lips as he read the note.

_+82 XXXX XXX XXXX_

_text “fullsun” for an instant pick me up!_

He immediately added the number to his phone—just for fun, just to see where it would take him.

—

“So you talked to your professor?” Jaemin asks, his eyes staring at the bottle in Renjun’s hand— out of concern? Who knows, Renjun doesn’t and he doesn’t particularly care either. He’s too busy rinsing out the memory of that afternoon. Renjun takes another swig of gin, ignoring the burning in his throat. Jaemin mutters something that sounds awfully like _oh my god_ before making his way to the kitchenette in their dorm.

“Yeah,” he says once he’s done taking a drink. A burp is building up in his throat, and it’s starting to annoy him. Adam Pascal and Anthony Rapp’s voices echo in their dorm room, and Renjun’s very sure, if their RA didn’t have a soft spot for both him and Jaemin, Renjun’s pity party would long have ceased.

“Dying in America at the end of the millenia” Renjun absently sings—mutters, really—staring at that one spot in their wall that has a stain, before taking another drink.

“I’m guessing it went bad?” Jaemin comes back to his seat beside Renjun on their couch. A glass of water in his hand that he offers to Renjun with a stern eye. Renjun meets Jaemin’s glare with his own, a little bit hazy but he’s proud he even manages. Jaemin isn’t relenting and Renjun’s having a hard time keeping his eyes open. A groan comes out from his lips before he sets his bottle on their coffee table. He accepts the glass from Jaemin, downing all of it. Bopping his head to the sound of the guitar and the drums, he lays his head on Jaemin’s shoulder.

“It actually went okay, I think,” Renjun slurs, taking Jaemin’s hand into his. Jaemin chuckles, intertwining their fingers. Renjun has always been tactile once he was piss-drunk. Being roommates since their first year, Jaemin is well-acquainted with his drunken tendencies. He knows exactly when Renjun’s on the verge of not having a good time and when he’s about to have a whole drunken breakdown.

“So why are we drinking?” Jaemin asks, picking up the bottle with his free hand and taking a drink himself.

“Just—” Renjun hiccups—“want to forget.”

“It probably wasn’t that bad, Junnie.”

“You don’t know that,” Renjun says before taking back the bottle from Jaemin.

“You got a tutor though?” 

“Said he has someone in mind.” Another sip of gin. “He’ll tell me on Tuesday.”

“Here’s to finally passing,” Jaemin cheers, taking the bottle from Renjun, raising it high before drinking.

“Here’s to finally passing,” Renjun finally burps.

—

Not long after Renjun added the number to his contacts—maybe a week, tops—he finally gave in to his curiosity and texted the number.

—

**fullsun**

_fullsun_

_O.o_

_you are amazing. you are important. you are special. you are unique. you are kind. you are precious. you are loved._

—

**fullsun**

_fullsun_

_everyone gets scared, but you need to choose to be brave._

—

**fullsun**

_fullsun_

_you should be proud of yourself. you’ve achieved amazing things._

_how would you know that?_

_oooooooooh he speaks!_

_you got into this university, didn’t you?_

_ofc i speak_

_i guess youre right_

_ofcourse i am!_

_im fullsun!_

—

It was Xuxi, his cousin’s idea to actually meet ‘Fullsun’ in the first place.

They had been continuously texting for three weeks in a row before Xuxi took notice during one of their coffee runs.

“I think you should meet them,” Xuxi said as they sat down in a booth at Visionary, Xuxi’s favorite coffee shop on campus—he said it was because of the industrial design, Renjun would argue it was because of Thursday’s barista with the pretty eyes and light brown hair.

“Why?” Renjun asked, disbelief laced in his voice. He took his wallet from his pocket before reaching over the money to Xuxi. “Mocha.”

“I know, who do you think I am?” He scoffed. “Because you gotta make sure they aren’t a murderer.”

“Wouldn’t meeting up with them make me more susceptible to murder?”

“You already are, considering you’re already texting him,” Xuxi said with a huff. “Irregardless—” Renjun let out a surprised chuckle—“Who knows? Maybe they’re cute?”

“Okay, I see what you’re doing,” Renjun glared at him. “Go get us coffee before I kick you.”

“Your drink isn’t even coffee,” Xuxi grumbled before leaving for the counter.

Once he was out of Renjun’s sight, Renjun took time to drink in the ambiance of the coffee shop—the thought of meeting ‘Fullsun’ sounded like a siren in his head against the quiet lull of the shop.

—

Renjun leaves his Biochemistry class, weirdly enthusiastic. He actually understands today’s lesson which means he’ll actually be able to follow their laboratory tomorrow. He feels himself smile involuntarily. _No more falling behind_. Finally, things are looking up for him.

The classroom where they hold Biochemistry lectures is only a few rooms away from his Microbiology class so he gets there rather early. He knocks on the door before opening it. When he doesn’t hear resistance, he opens the door—with full intentions of going in.

_Oh no._

Immediately, he wants to close it again. 

But sir Lee is already there and Renjun knows he caught him open the door. So with a heavy heart and a wince on his lips, he takes a deep breath and comes into the classroom. He makes his way over to a seat in the back, pointedly ignoring the front of the room, placing his bag on the floor next to his seat. From the corner of his eye, he sees sir Lee beckon him to the teacher’s table. _Oh fuck_ — _no no no no no nononono_ —

He takes a deep breath and walks to the professor’s table like there’s a knife to his throat.

“Yes, sir?” He keeps it curt, trying not to look at _him_ standing beside sir Lee’s desk.

“Remember our meeting last Friday?” Renjun nods at him, keeping his eyes solely at him. And honestly, for a professor, sir Lee did not know how to read the room for _shit_. “Well, I’ve actually managed to find you a tutor.” The tension gets worse by the second.

“This is Lee Donghyuck,” sir Lee says while patting _his_ back. “He’s the same year as you, a Molecular Biology major.” For the sake of courtesy and his admiration for sir Lee, Renjun forces himself to turn his gaze to the boy beside him. Best believe, Renjun is cursing Jaemin for jinxing it to hell and beyond.

“He’s one of my best students,” _I know, sir,_ Renjun thinks with slight wince. He turns his eyes back to his professor—he wants to snap his fingers in aggravation. “So you’ll be in good hands.”

“Donghyuck, this is—”

“Renjun.” _What are you doing, Lee._ “We used to know each other, sir.” There’s something in his voice that sounds strange but Renjun’s quick to ignore it. He’d rather focus on the resolute way Donghyuck uses past tense.

“We can catch up after class, Junnie.” Renjun’s head quickly snaps to Donghyuck’s direction. Between the use of past tense and the nickname Donghyuck drops, Renjun almost feels like a rubber band, ready to snap.

“Sure,” comes his terse answer. The tension is getting exhausting—and so does the ice growing at the nape of his neck. Renjun excuses himself before he makes his way back to his seat.

“Can I sit in for this class, sir?” He hears before he leaves for the back of the classroom.

His enthusiasm long drained from him, weariness seeps into him. Renjun sighs in exhaustion, _fuck_.

—

Renjun’s world collided with Donghyuck’s on a Saturday evening.

After a few more weeks of consideration and texting, he had taken Xuxi’s advice and asked ‘Fullsun’ if they would like to meet up. ‘Fullsun’ had responded with enthusiasm—and maybe, for once, the fear and nerves conspiring in his stomach was reasonable. They had said yes. Renjun had class during Saturday afternoons so they had planned to meet up in a bar at the outskirts of East Campus.

Saturday evening, Renjun had showered and texted Jaemin what bar they were going to meet up in, turning on his location. Just, precautions. He was nervous and dressed to the nines because maybe, ‘Fullsun’ could be a murderer—which Renjun doubted because ‘Fullsun’ hadn’t shown any signs of having a bad bone in their body but then again, some serial killers moved like that—but maybe, they could also be cute. In his mind, that was enough to justify borrowing Jaemin’s leather jacket and wearing skinny jeans.

9:54 pm.

Renjun found himself in King of Hearts minutes earlier than their agreed on meeting time—drowning in the purple mood lights they had set up and nursing a dry martini. His legs bounced anxiously as he scrolled through his Instagram. The bar was a bit cold so he tugged Jaemin’s jacket closer to him, pulling the sleeves to cover his hands. It was crowded that night which both assured Renjun and caused his stomach to convulse in sheer nerves.

—

**fullsun**

_hey im here alr_

_cool !!_

_im omw_

_kk_

_im wearing a leather jacket btw_

_okie_

_see you soon junnie !!_

_see u!!_

  
  


—

Renjun was in the middle of trying to beat his best score in Temple Run—he remembered the song playing then, Channel Orange in Your Living Room by Charlie Burg—when someone cleared their throat in front of him. His head snapped up from his phone and was welcomed with the brightest smile he had ever seen—Renjun didn’t really think that was possible after meeting Jaemin.

“Hey,” the boy in front of him said. Renjun found himself staring at the boy, taking in everything. He wore a colorful striped button down and skinny jeans; his dyed orange hair was curled and looked like the softest thing Renjun had ever seen—and _fuck_ —was that Ursa Minor on his cheeks? Renjun didn’t think purple and orange was a good color combination but _holy shit_ , did the boy make it work. 

He snapped out of his thoughts waxing poetry on how pretty and ethereal the boy who stood in front of him was when he realized said boy was asking him something.

“Hm?”

“Um… I was just wondering—uh,” the boy stuttered before shaking his head and chuckling. He visibly composed himself before asking. “Are you Junnie?”

_Oh._

“Fullsun?” Renjun asked before he could stop himself. The boy’s smile grew brighter which Renjun didn’t think was possible.

“Yeah,” ‘Fullsun’ laughed. “But most people just call me Donghyuck. What do most people call you, Junnie?”

“Renjun,” he said, stretching his hand out. “But I prefer Junnie.”

“Cool,” Donghyuck said, taking his hand. Renjun struggled not to stare at their hands as he shook them. “I prefer Junnie too.”

—

“How are you, Junnie?” He says it with so much familiarity, Renjun wonders if he’s suffering from amnesia. “I feel like we haven’t talked in ages.” Donghyuck has his hands in his pockets, back to the wall of the classroom, the absolute pinnacle of confidence. “How long has it been?”

Renjun scoffs in disbelief. “We haven’t talked since you broke up with Xuxi and ran away to Japan,” he says because Renjun’s never learned how to be tactful and he isn’t going to start now. His eyes staring at Donghyuck’s head on. Donghyuck avoids his eyes. “Also I’m fine.” He shakes his head. “What about you?” That isn’t the question that Renjun has bitten between his teeth but he settles for that—for now at least.

“I’ve been doing good.” He still isn’t looking Renjun in the eye. _So much for being the pinnacle of confidence_. 

“Anyway,” Donghyuck clears his throat. “What part of Microbio do you need help with?” He scratches his nose with the back of his hand, still not meeting Renjun’s eyes. Renjun marvels at how a few months of no contact could cause this much aggravation between their relationship—maybe, it had also been for Renjun’s vindictive tone but he reasons to himself that Donghyuck deserves that much.

“Dude, you can look at me,” Renjun mirthlessly chuckles. “I’m not going to bite,” he says, shaking his head. Donghyuck looks back at him, before quickly looking away. “Fuck,” he lets out a breath of a laugh in frustration, ruffling his hair before making his way to Donghyuck’s field of vision. He’s sick of this.

“Yo, it’s chill,” Renjun says, seriously—not really, but Renjun’s willing to compromise for his grades. “Whatever the hell your issues with Xuxi are completely between the two of you.” _Yeah sure_ , Renjun snorts.

“I don’t have issues with Xuxi.” Donghyuck finally looks him in the eye. _Thank fuck_.

“Tell him that,” Renjun scoffs. “Look, I’m sorry if what I said made you uncomfortable. I’ll try to watch my words next time—”

“You never do that,” Donghyuck says, a small smile appearing. Renjun catches himself staring at it for a bit before he can think of _what the hell_ else he’s going to say back.

“Yeah, well, I’m being nice,” Renjun sighs after a few moments. _Fucking finally_. “Anyway, I need serious help with my Microbio lab,” tilting his head, “like I desperately need help.”

“It isn’t like you to ask for help though.” Donghyuck smiles. And he’s right. He’s extremely right but this is a special case. Renjun tells as much to Donghyuck.

“Jaemin had to stage an intervention,” Renjun says with a small smile. “But honestly, I’m not understanding anything in my Microbio lab right now, and my grades are doing a Kokobop.” The joke is tired, sure, but the air is heavy and it’s starting to get under Renjun’s skin.

Donghyuck laughs, surprised like he didn’t expect Renjun to joke around. “God, I can’t believe I laughed at that,” he mutters, shaking his head. “That was so lame.”

“Don’t worry, I can’t believe I said it either.” _But at least it doesn’t feel like I’m suffocating anymore_.

“Do you still have my number?” Renjun shakes his head instead of saying _no_. “Figures,” Donghyuck says, holding his hand out. Renjun gets it immediately, reaching for his phone in his front pocket. He gives it to Donghyuck with a nod, after unlocking it. There’s a squeeze in his chest when his fingers brush against Donghyuck’s but Renjun’s desperate to ignore it.

“Text me when you’re available,” Donghyuck says, typing in his number. “Can you bring your copies of your lab sheets?” He looks up to Renjun, his eyebrows raised. Renjun nods. Avoiding Donghyuck’s hands, he reaches for his phone before sliding it back into his pocket.

“Cool.”

“Cool.”

—

“I don’t think that’s how you do it, Hyuck.”

“No, listen, Junnie,” Donghyuck said before aiming his cue stick at a random ball. “This is exactly how you do it.”

“No,” Renjun shook his head with a giggle. “I really don’t think that’s how you’re supposed to play it.”

Donghyuck had called him that Wednesday to hang out—Renjun was in the middle of studying Intro to Statistics and had been very much happy at the prospects of a distraction. They had spent five whole minutes talking about Stranger Things—taking more of Renjun’s study time which he was incredibly grateful for and would surely regret in the near future—before the topic ultimately turned to what they were going to do in said hang out. 

“Billiards,” Donghyuck had suggested.

“You know how to play?” Renjun had asked.

“Sure,” Donghyuck had said. And Renjun naively believed him. 

That was how they found themselves that Wednesday evening in a sketchy building with blinking neon lights and the strong stench of nicotine, fucking around because neither of them had ever bothered learning pool.

“I’m pretty sure you just finished the game,” Renjun said, watching the number 8 ball fall down one of the pockets.

“That’s 8ball, Junnie,” Donghyuck said before nodding to Renjun for his turn.

“Is that not what we’re playing?” Renjun asked. He bent down, aiming his cue at his cue ball. This much he knew how to do—point system and rules, he was completely clueless.

“No.” _Crack!_ The balls crackled as they hit each other. “We’re playing black ball.”

“No, we are not,” Renjun said, incredulously. Donghyuck made a face at him before turning his focus back to the table. “You literally shot the seven during the first round.” Okay, maybe Renjun did know a little bit about pool.

“Is the seven ball the black ball?” Donghyuck shot up. He looked genuinely curious as he looked at Renjun, waiting for him to answer. _Oh my god_.

“You are so fucking hopeless, Hyuckie.”

—

“Your tutor is who?” Jaemin practically shouts him, eyes wide with disbelief, mouth open in shock. Renjun grimaces at him, throwing his plushie at Jaemin’s face.

Renjun’s now back in his room, covered with a weighted duvet and every single plushie in their dorm room— his, _Jaemin’s_ , every single one of those fuzzy assholes. All except for his lap where he has his laptop laid, a word document open with ten words on it. There’s no drink in Renjun’s hand this time because Jaemin would hound him to hell and beyond if he drinks again—especially if the reason is _him_.

“Donghyuck,” Renjun says with so much practiced indifference, he almost fools himself too. 

“Did you jump him?” Renjun’s head snaps so quickly, the bone at his nape probably cracked. “Not like that, weirdo.” Jaemin burst out laughing, hugging Renjun’s plushie in his arms.

“Unless.” The wiggling of eyebrows makes Renjun reach for another plushie, reflexively.

“No, I didn’t jump him,” Renjun says in a matter-of-fact tone. “In whatever way, you’re talking about.” He leans back into his bed. The word document in his laptop has been open for the past five minutes but the word count is _still_ on ten.

“Boo. Boring,” Jaemin teases, throwing his plushie back at him. Renjun catches it with so much ease, he makes himself proud. “But I didn’t even know Donghyuck was back from Japan,” there’s no more teasing in his tone, his face serious as he turns back to his book.

“Me neither.” Renjun suddenly remembers something. “Do you think Jeno knows?”

“Do you think Xuxi knows?” Jaemin asks him, looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

_Huh_ , Renjun thinks. He turns back to his laptop, distracted.

—

Renjun wasn’t there when Xuxi and Donghyuck met.

(And thank God for that.)

Xuxi had called him on a Thursday evening, interrupting his binging session with Jaemin. 

Renjun had calmly accepted the call, unaware of how his world would fall apart at the seams after that phone call. “Hey?”

“Renjun!” Xuxi shouted, excitement laced in his tone. “You wouldn’t fucking believe what happened!” Renjun took the phone away from his ear as he pressed the speaker on before laying the phone down on their coffee table. Jaemin looked at him curiously, turning the volume down on the TV slightly.

‘Who?’ Jaemin mouthed at him.

‘Xuxi’ Renjun mouthed back. Jaemin nodded before turning back to the TV.

“What happened?” Renjun said before walking to his bed. He took his Moomin plushie and penguin plushie, throwing the latter at Jaemin before making his way back to their pseudo-living room. 

“I met a cute boy at the Science library!”

“Yeah?” Renjun said, eyebrows raised at Jaemin as Jaemin glanced at him with a smile. “Was it barista boy?”

“Nope!” Xuxi said, Renjun could almost feel the smile on his lips listening to him. “This one’s a sophomore.” 

“Yeah?” Renjun hummed, eyes on the TV.

“Yeah, he has orange hair and get this, yeah—he said he was a Molecular Biology major.” Jaemin glanced at him, curiously. It sounded a lot like Donghyuck which was likely since Xuxi said they were in the Science library but something in Renjun—particularly the part of his brain that foresight commandeered—didn’t like the direction this was going.

“It sounded super cool so I told him—hey! That sounds super cool! And he asked me what _I_ was taking and I was like—uh, you know, Linguistics. And dude, Jun, his eyes fucking lit up,” Xuxi said, the wide grin on his lips was getting more and more tangible. Renjun could feel himself lighten up, imagining how happy Xuxi was.

“He instantly started asking me what we learn in Linguistics and what made me choose Linguistics in the first place. So I told him, you know, learning multiple languages growing up made me super interested in language altogether—how I’ve been wanting to take Linguistics in college since I started high school.”

“And we just talked, you know?” Renjun hummed. “He talked about Molecular Biology and how he loved Biology since he was in fifth grade—” Jaemin’s head snapped in his direction as Xuxi said it. _Ah_ —“and how he wanted to work as a clinical researcher—” Jaemin’s eyes widened. Something in his stomach convulsed—“to improve medicine, make the side effects less harmful and Jun—” the admiration in Xuxi’s voice made Renjun want to wretch but he couldn’t blame him, he felt the same admiration and awe when hearing Donghyuck talk about his passion—“he was so passionate about it. I just—I couldn’t stop myself.” _Huh_. The ice at the back of Renjun’s throat had started to travel down his pharynx.

Jaemin’s attention was now fully on Renjun’s phone—Netflix on pause.

Renjun hummed, softly despite the desert on his tongue.

“I asked him out.” _Ah_. Jaemin looked at him, eyes wide, mouth gaped. Renjun felt his heart drop.

A couple of minutes passed in silence as Jaemin stared at Renjun and Renjun tried to pull himself together enough to say something encouraging to Xuxi. 

“Renjun?” He tried to think of something to say but he couldn’t— _fuck_ , he couldn’t. His mind was empty and his chest was hurting. He couldn’t think. He couldn't. He couldn’t. He couldn—

“That’s nice, Xuxi!” Jaemin said instead. He eyed him, warily, biting his lip.

“Jaemin?”

“Yeah,” Jaemin said, his tone drenched with faux cheeriness. His eyes were ridden with worry as Renjun fell apart then and there. “You’re on speaker, Renjun had to get something in the bathroom.”

“Oh!”

“Yup! Did you get the guy’s name?” Jaemin asked, nudging his head. Renjun glanced at where Jaemin was pointing— _Oh_ , the bathroom. It was a miracle Renjun had the brain capacity to get the message. He stood up, his legs weak and his steps light as he made his way to the bathroom. 

“Yeah! I did actually!” Renjun opened the door slightly before closing it soundly. Jaemin nodded at him before beckoning him back to the couch. “Oh! Was that Renjun?”

‘Get it together’ Jaemin mouthed.

“Yeah, Xuxi, I’m back,” Renjun said, trying to sound cheerful. “I had to get something. Anyway, the guy’s name?” He grit it despite everything in him stopped him from asking.

“Oh yeah! His name’s Lee Donghyuck and we’re meeting again on Saturday!” The moments after that was white noise for Renjun—all he could think was how he just lost every chance he had with Donghyuck.

—

**xuxi :/**

_hey xuxi_

_question, real quick_

_hey junnie_

_whats up_

_um_

_well_

_uh_

_did u uh_

_did u know d*nghyuck was back?_

_hdvsdhv_

_you didn’t have to censor his name_

_but yeah_

_i knew_

_????_

_lol he visited me at the cafe_

_he knows u work at the cafe???_

_yeah_

_i think jen told him_

_jeno knows???????_

_yeah lol_

_jen said they kept in touch_

_huh_

_whyd donghyuck visit u anyway_

_um_

_we talked_

_talked?_

_yeah_

_huh_

_wait_

_howd you know_

_hes my tutor in microbio_

_HUH_

—

_What the fuck._ Renjun lays his phone on the coffee table, the black screen reflecting the absolute confusion on his face. It’s a few hours now after Renjun’s conversation with Jaemin, he’s taken refuge on the couch, leaving his laptop on his bed. His word count a lot higher than ten now.

“They both know,” Renjun says, his forehead scrunched in confusion, still staring at his phone. He hears rustling in the kitchenette before looking up at Jaemin, his roommate has the same confused expression on his face.

“Huh.” _Huh is absolutely correct_.

—

Renjun was failing—he knew. This was the dumbest reason to fail but it was apparently the hill he was going to die on.

Donghyuck and Xuxi had been on four dates since the fateful ‘Library Collision’—as Jaemin affectionately dubbed it with Jeno laughing and Sicheng ge snickering in the background during one of Renjun’s on-the-phone rant sessions—and they were just getting worse and worse. 

Renjun has never experienced a crush that affected him this much—not even his first one and that was a whole other mess to uncover—Donghyuck just wormed through his heart, created a space for himself, and decided that he would like it very much to stay there. And stay he did until he didn’t want to anymore, until he got bored—until he decided that maybe Renjun’s heart was a little too lackluster for his liking. So he decided to move.

With his headphones blaring A Great Big World, Renjun was so consumed by his thoughts he didn’t realize he was on a collision course with another absentminded student until—

“Holy shit!”

“Fuck!” Renjun exclaimed as he recoiled. His head snapped up to apologize to the person he managed to crash against. The stranger welcomed him with an apologetic smile and a small chuckle.

“Sorry about that,” he had said before Renjun could apologize himself. The apology died down in his throat when he realized the stranger wasn’t really looking at him but at his hoodie. Renjun looked down and realized with a start that there was now a coffee stain on the right side of his hoodie, and how there was a glaringly empty coffee cup in the stranger’s hands.

“Oh,” was all he could manage to say, examining the stain. _How much would dry cleaning for this cost?_ Renjun computed the cost in his head whilst berating himself for wearing such a sensitive hoodie outside. _Deserve_ , a part of his brain whispered for his dumbassery. He heard the stranger splutter, probably trying to think of something to say before Renjun turned his attention back to him.

“I could pay for the cleaning?” The stranger seemed to settle with—and sure, Renjun appreciated the gesture but he really didn’t want to spend another second in the outside world. He just wanted to get to his dorm and drown in his sorrows and stupidity. “Um—here!” Mr. Stranger struggled to get something from the back of his phone before he handed him a calling card— _oh my god, if he’s a business student, I will actually start_ crying—“I usually use that for tutoring but—yeah, I have my name, number, and email—if you like—on there. You can contact me whenever for the cleaning—um. Yeah.”

Renjun took the card with an apprehensive look. He observed the card—a photo of the boy in front of him, a name, _Lee Minhyung_ , an email, and a number. _Alright_ . Once the boy was done rambling, Renjun looked back at him—Minhyung was looking at him through hooded eyes, biting his lips in worry. _Hm. Alright_.

“I’ll think about it,” Renjun said finally, after a whole minute of just staring at Minhyung. His eyes lit up once Renjun said it. He slapped the card against his hand in thought before he decided. “Nice to meet you, Minhyung.” Renjun reached a hand out to him. Fuck his mood, he guessed.

A smile stretched on Minghyung’s lips before he took Renjun’s hand in his own. “Everyone just calls me Mark,” he said as they shook hands. “It’s nice to meet you too…”

“Renjun.”

—

“I need to get hammered.”

“Absolutely not,” Mark says from the seat in front of him.

They’re sitting in a booth at a diner they once found in the midst of a night out. The hustle and bustle of the open kitchen near them makes for perfect white noise as they both pretend to ignore the huge ass elephant in the room.

Renjun glares at Mark with a _tsk_. “You aren’t getting drunk, Jun. No matter how much you glare at me,” Mark says, pointedly ignoring him for the menu in his hand.

“Why not?” Renjun whines. He lays his head on the table before looking up at Mark with the most _puppy fucking eyes_ he could muster— _fuck_ dignity, he needs a drink.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Mark points at him. “Jaemin told me you got drunk last Friday.”

“So?” It comes out a whine again and really, Renjun isn’t trying anymore.

“Give your liver a break, Jun,” He sighs before putting the menu down. “Plus I know why you want to drink and it isn’t worth it.” Mark says it with so much nonchalance, Renjun almost believes him. But Renjun knows Mark, almost as much as he knows Jaemin.

“How’d you find out?”

“Lucas.” The honesty stings.

“He told you?” Something starts pooling in his throat and he doesn’t know what it is. “Since when?”

“A few days ago,” it comes out a mumble from Mark. 

“So before me?” Renjun doesn’t expect the bitter laugh that comes out from him. _Fuck_ . “Whatever.” The betrayal pierces through the disbelief he feels. Xuxi tells him _everything_ —why the hell wouldn’t he tell Renjun about something as big as Lee Donghyuck being back?

“Jun—”

“No, it’s whatever.” Renjun sits up, clearing his throat. Logically, he knew Donghyuck was coming back—but he knew a lot of things logically; he knew Microbiology logically, he knew the Earth spins logically, he knew a caterpillar would turn into a butterfly logically. In practice though, it took some time believing.

“What are you getting?” He asks, trying to act indifferent, desperately trying to bait Mark to change the subject.

“... I’ll get some waffles, I guess.” Renjun’s thankful enough that Mark knows him enough not to push.

“Cool. I’ll go with fries.”

—

**microbio tutor**

_hey renjun !!_

_hey donghyuck_

_whats up_

_are you free tomorrow afternoon? around 3:30 pm?_

_uh_

_let me check_

_yeah_

_my last class is until 3_

_so ill be clear by then_

_coolsies !!_

_let’s meet up then, sci department library !!_

_sure_

_can you bring your labsheets?_

_and maybe assessment papers?_

_ok_

_see you!!_

_see u_

  
  


—

A wave of cool air welcomes Renjun as he makes his way inside the Science Department’s library. His last class of the day was Human Physiology, and he isn’t very sure if he can take a tutoring session right now. But he tries. He needs to pass. The mantra cycles through his thoughts—even when he spots Donghyuck at the reading tables, even when he feels tension pulse through his shoulder, even when the rate of his heartbeat doubles every second. Even when he lays his bag on the table in front of Donghyuck, the same phrase plays through him—he _needs_ to pass.

“Hey,” Donghyuck says as he smiles at Renjun. There’s weariness at the tips of it and Renjun feels his throat start to dry up.

“Hey,” Renjun replies instead. He avoids Donghyuck’s eyes, focusing all his attention to getting his labsheets from his bag. There’s a tense atmosphere wafting around them, even with what Renjun said the last time they met.

“So…” Donghyuck trails off, his voice tinged with uncertainty. _This is not gonna work out_. “Those labsheets?” Renjun takes a deep breath before he faces him, labsheets in hand and his jaws clenched. He reaches the stack of paper to Donghyuck, avoiding his fingers. 

Donghyuck looks over them, one by one. The uncertainty melts off of his face as he concentrates on the papers in his hand. Renjun takes a moment to stare—he can’t help it but as long as Donghyuck isn’t looking—he looks comfortable and warm in his gray hoodie. Renjun’s personal vendetta against the fluorescent lights intensifies when he thinks of the way the light illuminates Donghyuck—it looks almost like a halo. Renjun has to look away when he finds himself analyzing the way he ruffles his hair absentmindedly, or the way his eyelashes flutter against his cheek.

_This isn’t going to work out_ , is all Renjun can think as he stares out the window. Leaves were starting to brown and crisp, the same way the air was turning chillier and chillier. Half of the campus was starting to wrap themselves in hoodies and coats, and the coffee shops were starting to bring out their autumn themed cups. A fleeting thought passes through Renjun’s mind that causes the ice at the pit of his nape to sharpen. _How long has Donghyuck been back?_

Renjun takes a chance and glances back at Donghyuck. He’s still looking over the papers—now, he has a pencil in his hand, making marks on questions and topics that Renjun needs to work on, he supposes. _Donghyuck’s still Donghyuck_. It’s a comforting thought. No matter how fucked their past was, Donghyuck is still going to be Donghyuck.

“How was Japan?” The question comes out before he can think about it and maybe, it comes out with more bite than he planned. He sees Donghyuck tense up at the sudden question. _Tact, Jun, tact_. Renjun tries to give him a small smile to ease him. Donghyuck tries to return it but to Renjun it just looks like a wince.

“It was fun,” Donghyuck finally says after a couple of moments of silence. He glances back at the papers, and Renjun goes back to tapping his right foot in agitation. Donghyuck takes a quick glance at him before going back to the papers. Renjun wills himself to look away. _So much for a conversation_. There’s a chill creeping on the window, Renjun stares at it, giving it his whole attention. 

“I didn’t think my Japanese was as good as Yuta-hyung said it was,” Donghyuck says, catching Renjun’s attention. He flips through the last labsheet, his fingers teetering the pencil back and forth. “Turns out it actually was. I’m conversationally good, writing and reading is a whole other beast to conquer though.” Lead scratches against the paper as he encircles a number from the questionnaire part. Renjun hums.

“Did you manage?”

“Yeah, actually,” Donghyuck says, fingers toying with the corner of the paper as he read through Renjun’s answers. “Thank God. I’d actually cry if my grades suffered just because my dumbass couldn’t handle a—” Renjun’s breath hitches in anticipation—but Donghyuck catches himself before he slips. Eyes wide, shoulders tense. He rails himself back in, and Renjun’s left wondering what was he going to say.

His spine straightens; he doesn’t know what to do with Donghyuck’s bit tongue and the atmosphere he managed to create. Renjun reminds himself of why they’re here in the first place. This isn’t the time and place where Renjun begs Donghyuck for answers. He’s here to pass. He reminds himself over and over again before he gathers himself.

“Anyway, my labsheets?” Renjun makes sure his words are soaked with nonchalance and honest curiosity. He leans forward and starts to tap on the table to nail home the act. The sound of voice snaps Donghyuck out of his stupor instantly.

“Oh yeah!” Donghyuck gathers the rest of the papers he set aside while reading over them. “The main problem with your cultures is the isolation part. During the culturing, it looks all good but during the isolation part, it gets all wonky. Based on your procedures and materials, it’s mostly because you’re using the wrong Agar. That could mean a lot of things, it could mean you’re having a hard time distinguishing bacterias or you might need a refresher on different types of Agar.”

Renjun takes it into consideration before answering, “I think it’s the former, actually. I’ve never been good at identifying bacteria under the microscope. It always looks so different from the pictures in the book.” Donghyuck hums in agreement.

“Maybe. I’ll have to see you do it though,” Donghyuck says, handing the stack of papers to Renjun. There’s a smile on his face now, tapping his pencil against the table in thought. “I’ll have to talk to Mr. Lee about that but for now, that’s my main hypothesis.” He wiggles his eyebrows when he says hypothesis and Renjun’s chuckles at how ridiculous he looks.

“Spoken like a true Biologist,” Renjun smirks at him.

“Don’t forget it.”

“If the problem turns out to be identifying bacteria, I can lend you a book with concise descriptions and clearer pictures.” His fingers continue to tap the pencil against the wood. “If it's Agar, I can lend some notes and walk you through it.” Donghyuck tilts his head in consideration, expression turning distant but serious. “But notes will always be different than reality.”

“So you’ll watch me culture,” Renjun nods. “And figure it out from there?”

“Yup,” Donghyuck looks back at Renjun with a smile. “That’s all I can do for now, but I’ll text you when Mr. Lee gives us the go signal.” Renjun hates the way Donghyuck’s smile brings up complicated feelings in him.

“Thanks,” Renjun says instead. He slides his labsheets back into his bag. “For real, I really needed the help.”

“No problem—” a pause before he continues— “that’s what friends are for, right?” Donghyuck sends him a strained smile. It feels like a plea for forgiveness, his eyes are saying _I’m sorry_ as a litany. Renjun wishes he would say it out loud.

But for now, he guesses,

“What are friends for.”

He’ll settle for it—even with the bitter aftertaste on his tongue.

—

Renjun drinks with Jaemin that night—shots of vodka, tequila, rum. God, Renjun needs it all. 

The bar is dim lit with purple mood lights, guitar strums accompany the euphonious sound of the singer’s cover of a Joji song. It’s a Wednesday night meaning there’s hardly any people in the bar. They easily found a booth at the corner, away from prying eyes. The bar feels calm, static, intoxicatingly soft—Renjun feels like vomiting all over the floor.

He can’t stop tapping his foot against the linoleum floor, his fingers tipping the empty shot glass back and forth. Jaemin is glaring from the seat in front of him. _I’m probably ruining the whole vibe_ , Renjun thinks absentmindedly. Anxiety boils over him before he reaches for another shot of rum. Tipping his head back, he feels the burn of the rum as it slides down his throat. _Fuck_.

“So, let me get this straight?” Jaemin says, his eyes following Renjun’s hand reaching for another shot. He sips on his Bramble before looking Renjun in the eye. “You forgive him?”

“What’s there to forgive?” He says after the shot settles in his tummy. Renjun just retold the story of his tutoring session with Donghyuck. Jaemin just sips on his drink—nodding here and there, humming when Renjun glosses over Donghyuck’s action plan. “He didn’t really do anything wrong to me. Just Xuxi.”

“That’s the hottest pile of garbage I’ve ever heard,” Jaemin rolls his eyes. “You were—wait, are?” A shake of the head—an insistent shake of the head. “No, okay, were in love with him.” Renjun doesn’t appreciate the teasing tone in his voice.

“He didn’t know.”

“Bullshit,” Jaemin mumbles, his lips on the rim of the glass. He takes a sip before laying his glass down. There’s something in Jaemin’s eyes that makes Renjun worry his lips but he tries not to look him in the eye. “He definitely knew, Junnie.”

“No, he didn’t.”

“Yes, he did,” Jaemin sighs. “Trust me, okay? He knew and he still ran away without saying anything. He didn’t even say goodbye.”

“He’s saying sorry because he knew and he wasn’t ready to confront that so he ran away.”

“He ran away from Xuxi,” Renjun practically begs Jaemin. He’s desperate for the reason to not be him. The squeeze in his chest isn’t reassuring. “Listen, Jaem. Remember? Weeks before he left, Donghyuck and Xuxi had a fight and they broke up.”

“He probably left to get away from things, to be able to move on properly.”

“Renjun—”

“No, Jaemin. Look, I’m never going to be Donghyuck’s reason, okay?” Renjun isn’t ready to hear it. He hopes Jaemin takes the hint.

“Whatever, Jun,” Jaemin drops it. _Thank God_. “Just know I’m right.”

There’s a beat of silence.

“Why do you think he said sorry then?” Jaemin says. He finishes his drink in one sip. Renjun doesn’t know.

“Probably for leaving without a word.” _He didn’t_ say _sorry_ is left unsaid. His finger traces the rim of the glass. It’s hard not to replay the moment Donghyuck left over and over again. An Instagram story. A shot of his ticket and an emoji of an airplane. Nothing less, nothing more. Twenty seconds and then he was gone, for a whole semester. No messages, facetimes, calls. Donghyuck left and a tsunami rose in his wake. 

“Mark knows,” Renjun whispers over the bar’s music. The words sound like a secret—like if he spoke them louder, they’d be real. He wishes they weren’t.

“So it’s just us two?”

“I mean if Chenle, Jisung and Sicheng know, then yeah,” Renjun nods. “We’d be the only two who didn’t know.”

“I’m going to hound Chenle and Jisung’s asses,” Jaemin mutters. He hangs his head with a resigned sigh. “How’d Mark find out?” After a minute of silence.

“Xuxi.” Jaemin’s head snaps up to look Renjun in the eye. There’s something in his eyes again—pity? Shock? Renjun isn’t sure, all he knows is he doesn’t want to look at it anymore.

Renjun stares at the rum in his glass—it ripples when his grip on the glass tightens. La La Lost You in the background doesn’t sound as soothing as the past songs the singer played.

—

**microbio tutor**

_junnie!!_

_yeah?_

_we got the go signal for the lab!!_

_oh cool_

_i’ve got the schedule for when the lab is free_

_when are you available next week?_

_i dont have classes on fridays_

_oh same!!_

_we can meet up at around 12 pm?_

_the labs free during that time_

_sure_

_ok_

_bring your labsheet #1 !!_

_we’ll practice that one!_

_okay_

_see u_

_see you!!!_

  
  


—

Renjun and Xuxi have a tradition; twice a month, on a Thursday—without any doubt or thought—they meet up in Visionary for coffee. They did it when they first moved to South Korea, they did it when Xuxi started dating Donghyuck and Renjun started to distance himself away from them. Like clockwork, two Thursdays a month, Visionary, just the two of them.

This Thursday isn't any different. They meet up at Visionary, 4:10 pm. Visionary looks the same—industrial and homey. But something feels different—maybe, it's the way Renjun's spine is as straight as a board and the tension in his shoulders is as tight as a stretched rubber band.

Xuxi walks into the cafe a few minutes before ten, he heads straight to the counter—every bit as smiley and cheery as always while Renjun’s face is fixed in a perpetual frown and his right leg is causing an earthquake with how much it’s jumping up and down. 

He doesn’t realize it but a few minutes passes and finally, Xuxi has gotten their drinks and is already making his way to him. The smile on his face is so bright, it makes the ants under Renjun’s skin crawl up his arms. Xuxi lays his drink in front of him—Renjun thanks him with a tight lip smile—he sits and Renjun prays to the gods.

“I know what you’re about to ask,” Xuxi says before Renjun could build the courage to say something. Something sticks to the back of Renjun’s throat as the easy-going smile on Xuxi’s face shifts to something less happy—it’s taut and tight, and it did not bode well for the bile gurgling at the pit of Renjun’s stomach. “I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Renjun says before he can stop himself. The disbelief coursing through his skin is irritating and the need to scratch it is debilitating.

“I mean.” Xuxi inhales, something tired runs through his shoulders before he looks at Renjun dead-on. “I don’t know why he asked me not to tell you that he’s back. I mean—I have a feeling as to why, but it isn’t my business to say. He just told me not to and I respect that.” Xuxi’s right—he absolutely is and the defeat of the situation makes Renjun’s mind go numb.

Renjun leans back on his seat with a tired sigh. “What did you guys talk about?”

“Why he left,” Xuxi says before taking a sip from his cup. 

“What did he say?” Renjun asks, his fingers playing with the cup sleeve—eyes on the cardboard surrounding his cup with the italicized Visionary on it.

“Nothing I already didn’t know,” Xuxi says with a shake of a head. “Just said he couldn’t stay in hiding anymore.”

“Do you think he’ll tell me if I ask?” Renjun asks. He looks up at Xuxi and he doesn’t mean it but with each syllable he spells out—hope seeps out of his bones.

The pitying glint in Xuxi’s eyes is a punch in the gut and drains every ounce of hope in his body.

—

11:30 AM.

Renjun’s early for once. The weather was nice enough for a walk so he did. The browning leaves and crisp air lended itself to the atmosphere of the university. It was nice. Nice enough to tempt Renjun to stay in the park instead of the laboratory. He can’t afford that though. _No more failing_.

BioLab 129.

Donghyuck has been bugging him these past few days about what Agar they needed and where the sample should be taken from. Renjun unlocks the door of the laboratory with the key Mr. Lee gave him yesterday. His right arm growing numb with how heavy the bag he’s carrying is; he pushes the door open with his body.

The sterile cold air welcomes him with an embrace as he steps in. Renjun dumps his bags in one of the cabinets before taking out his PPE kit and the bag full of materials. He puts on his lab coat, one arm in one sleeve, one by one—avoiding the way his chest is starting to hurt from the anxiety. Instinctively, he goes through what he has to do: wash the glasswares he brought with the sponge and soap beside the faucet, and then pat them dry with the paper towels under the sink. There’s a certain peace within the routine, making sure each of it is clean and sterile before using—a certain peace he uses to quell the burning in his chest. Renjun brings out his phone to play music—11:36 AM—the soft electric guitar wafts through the air and soon Charlie Burg’s voice intertwines with it. It’s enough to distract Renjun from the migraine that’s starting to form.

He loses himself to the music, the gentle synths and the soft voices help him take his mind out of his body for a second. Monotonous work, and the whimsical tune of falling in love. Renjun sways from side to side, a subtle swing of the hips as he carefully pats down a test tube. 

11:49 AM.

The glasses perched on Renjun’s nose are slowly slipping down. He scrunches his nose trying to push them up—he feels himself grow cross-eyed as he grows more distracted by his glasses. A hand suddenly reaches forward to help him push it forward. Panic seizes Renjun and he dodges the hand as quickly as he could—causing his glasses to completely slide down, falling to the floor. The yelp beside him catches his attention. Renjun turns to the stranger quickly, taking his attention away from his glasses. 

Donghyuck’s standing beside him, his eyes wide and his mouth closed shut. A sigh bubbles from his chest when he realizes it’s just Donghyuck. No stranger, just a— _uh_ — _friend_? His hand reaches up to pat the panic in his chest down. Donghyuck smiles at him, in a sorry-I-fucked-up kind of way. Renjun just shrugs, takes his gloves off, and reaches for his glasses. He assesses his glasses, checking if there’s any scratch or cracks. Once he deems it in peak condition, he places them back on the perch of his nose. 

“I brought coffee,” Donghyuck says, apologetically. Renjun turns to him and sees him now holding two cups of coffee. A smile tugs on Renjun’s lips and he can’t stop it from blooming into itself. “Standard mocha for our resident Scared-y Cat.” The smirk Donghyuck reminds him so much of freshman Donghyuck with his boyish energy and troublemaker aura. The burning in his heart is back.

“You didn’t have to,” Renjun says, taking the cup instead. He takes a sip from the cup.

“I know,” Donghyuck says, glancing away from Renjun. He doesn’t see him freeze. Renjun can’t decide if that’s a good thing or not. “But I felt like buying you one anyway.” It’s very thoughtful, and Renjun would say as much if he wasn’t still reeling from the fact that the mocha is from _Visionary_.

Renjun tries to gather himself— _what the hell was Donghyuck doing at Central Campus? Much more Visionary?_ The thought of his cousin is hidden at the recesses of his mind. He clears his throat in hopes to clear his thoughts. He doesn’t need this right now. The cup in Renjun’s hands shakes a bit when Renjun lays it down on top of the cabinets. 

“Thank you,” Renjun almost hopes Donghyuck doesn’t hear his pathetic whisper. For a few seconds, it feels like it doesn’t—Renjun is almost grateful but then, Donghyuck turns to him with a small smile. He feels like he can’t breathe.

“No problem.” There’s a moment—where they’re both just staring at each other, breaths baited, lips taut in smiles they both can’t read—but the air stutters, and the moment passes like a snap of a finger. They both recoil, avoiding each other’s eyes before Donghyuck puts down his own cup and reaches for his PPE kit. The burning in Renjun’s chest intensifies. He ignores it, instead he focuses on bringing out the materials they need for culturing. 

Activity 1 specifies the need for a test tube with Agar and an Agar plate; it focuses on the different ways you can culture, and so far, it’s been Renjun’s highest labsheet score this quarter—which doesn’t really mean anything seeing as it was just simple culturing. Renjun takes note in his mind that the Agar bottle is in the storage closet beside the white board. They’ll have to prepare their own Agar test tubes and Agar plates to keep the colonies pure.

“I got the samples, by the way,” Donghyuck says after putting on his lab gown in silence. Renjun can almost hear the tick of the clock with how quiet it’s been—he hopes Donghyuck can’t hear the way he’s heart has been beating. “Got it from a door knob.”

“Which one?” Renjun says, distracting himself from staring at Donghyuck by rearranging the materials on the table. _Petri dish, test tube, inoculating needle._ He reaches for a new pair of gloves, putting it on.

“The men’s bathroom near the Chemistry classrooms.” How Donghyuck can make it sound so suspicious is beyond Renjun—the grin on his face doesn’t help either. 

“Gross,” is the best he could come up with. The desert in his throat and the clog in his head aren’t the best tools to think of something sharper.

“Yeah, well,” Donghyuck says. He reaches for the sample in his bag before putting it beside Renjun’s in the cabinet. “We _are_ looking for germs, you know that right?” It’s a joke, a dig you say to a friend. Renjun wants to laugh and cry at the same time.

Renjun hums instead. He takes the sample from Donghyuck, stares at it before giving it back to him. “The Agar bottle is in the storage closet.”

Donghyuck hums before glancing at the closet, “I’ll get it, can you get the bowl?”

“Sure,” Renjun says, making his way to the back of the room where the equipment is. The door is unlocked when he gets there so he easily comes in. The steel bowl they usually use for water baths were always put near the hot plate, another thing he needs to grab. He immediately looks for the hot plate; he finds it lodged beside the bunsen burners. And there on top of the hot plate, he finds the steel bowl.

_Hell yeah_ , he thinks before grabbing the both of them—trying very hard not to topple any of the bunsen burners. Renjun manages to get both successfully; he does a happy dance in his brain before he grabs the thermometers near the door. With his hands full, he decides to kick the door close instead. A light kick closes it with a quiet click, and Renjun considers that too, a small victory.

Renjun walks back to their table, placing down the equipment carefully. Without missing a second, he takes the bowl and walks back to the faucet. He doesn’t think too much about why the _hell_ he’s doing things in fast forward—tries not to think of Donghyuck back at their table, looking at him, probably searching for something to talk about. The water fills the bowl, a few inches from the rim, before he turns it off. _Fuck_ , he thinks, before he makes his way to the table. The water will probably take ten minutes or more to reach the temperature they need—the panic bubbling at the bottom of his throat isn’t a very nice premonition for the ten minutes of silence where him and Donghyuck will have to think of something to fill up the time.

He places the bowl on the hot plate, Donghyuck reaching over to plug it. Renjun turns it on and the screen at the end of the hot plate shows a bright zero. Donghyuck presses the up button to set the temperature higher. He swallows hard, trying to ignore the distance between them—or how his heart is beating faster and faster. His hands form a fist beside him to stop itself from twitching. The need to recoil and the desire to move closer feel almost the same, and it would be so easy for Renjun to move with his instincts.

Donghyuck, though, doesn’t acknowledge his inner turmoil—Renjun hopes it's because he doesn’t know it’s happening rather than pity—he balances the thermometer on the lip of the bowl before pulling out a seat under the table. He settles into it, taking a sip from his coffee. 

It takes a few moments to register but Renjun soon realizes his phone is still playing music near the sink. He takes it into his hand before he switches the song. Ryan Beatty replaces Charlie Burg’s voice and Renjun revels at how Donghyuck’s head bops to the beat of Powerslide—he doesn’t mouth the words, Donghyuck probably doesn’t know the song but he sways subtly to it, focused on his phone. Donghyuck’s always had this connection with music. No matter where, no matter when, if music is playing, he dances—tap of a shoe, sway of a hip, nod of a head—always. 

Renjun doesn’t realize he’s staring until Donghyuck meets his eyes with a smile. His head instantly snaps back to his phone, pretending to text someone. He switches between apps, checks Twitter and Instagram, scrolls through his bare minimum contacts, and counts to ten—before he makes his way back to Donghyuck, phone still in hand. After checking the battery charge, he lays it down on top of the shelf. 

“What’s the song?” Donghyuck asks, eyes away from his phone.

“This one?” A nod. “Powerslide by Ryan Beatty.”

After a moment of consideration, “Good song, right?”

“Yeah, I really like it.”

The awkward atmosphere shrouding them after that is probably the worst thing Renjun has ever experienced. You would think they’d have more to talk about considering they’ve known each other for _two years_ —it’s jarring to Renjun how easily a choice, or a mistake could take away all that familiarity. He tries not to think about how Donghyuck’s decision isn’t the only thing contributing to their irksome situation. Renjun decides to focus his attention to the thermometer instead. _You need to pass_ , he reminds himself. _65_.

“What temp does this have to be again?”

“76 Celsius,” Donghyuck says, looking up from his phone. He takes a look at the thermometer himself. “Just a little bit more, huh.” Renjun hums, restraining himself from looking or acknowledging Donghyuck’s existence. 

“Do you want to have lunch later?” That catches Renjun’s attention. Donghyuck said it so out of the blue, Renjun doesn’t know if this was something he planned before or if it was spontaneous.

The look on Renjun’s face probably alarmed Donghyuck because he quickly adds, “I mean, we’ll have to wait for the Agar to set so…” He trails off and Renjun feels slightly guilty for making Donghyuck feel like he doesn’t want to hang out with him—which he doesn’t but Donghyuck doesn’t need to know that.

“Sure,” Renjun says to put Donghyuck out of his misery. He doesn’t hear himself though—how could he? Against the ringing in his ear and the blood pumping in and out his heart thrice the speed. 

Renjun kind of wishes he didn’t turn to see Donghyuck’s smile. He really _really_ wishes he didn’t—he also wishes he didn’t think that Donghyuck’s sun-of-a-smile was worth the crescent moons embedded into his palm.

—

“I don’t understand how you can spend hours watching stuff like this,” Renjun laughed, his tone laced with something teasing.

They were lying on Renjun’s bed watching DIY miniatures as Jaemin crammed his paper somewhere in their living room. Donghyuck was cuddling him on his side—arm wrapped around Renjun’s waist and chin rested on his shoulder as Renjun held the phone up for both of them to watch.

“What is it not relaxing?” Donghyuck asked him—a smile on his lips as he poked the side of Renjun’s stomach. Renjun recoiled and let out a mock shout before poking him back.

“It is,” Renjun giggled, slapping Donghyuck’s hand as he tried to poke him again. “Doesn’t it get repetitive though?”

Donghyuck hummed before shaking his head. “Nah, not really.” A wide smile grew on his face before he said in the most intoxicatingly cute voice—“Especially when I have Junnie with me to watch it with.” His fingers instantly found the sweet spot Renjun’s stomach—Renjun squealed before he retaliated with tickling Donghyuck back, escalating their poking war to a full on tickle battle.

“Oh my god! Can you both shut up? I swear.”

—

It wasn’t as awkward as Renjun thought it would be—the rest of the minutes they spent waiting for the water to boil. They ended up talking about where they were going to eat lunch. Renjun suggested the cafeteria near the Science building, Donghyuck only winced in protest ( _“How the holy hell can you stand the food there?” “D-donghyuck, I’ve never tried it there!”)_ . They settled on a small Hotpot restaurant near the East Campus which Donghyuck suggested ( _“Are you sure?” “Why wouldn’t I be sure?” “You don’t like Hotpot, Donghyuck” “Yes, Renjun, I do” “Fine”)_. Renjun didn’t know what Donghyuck’s game was supposed to be but he relented, exasperated at him.

Donghyuck tells him after they lock the laboratory that he brought his car with him—the Visionary cup in his hand reminds him of where Donghyuck was before he arrived at the laboratory. The bitter feeling creeping up his throat doesn’t wash away when he takes a sip of his drink.

“Nice car,” Renjun muses. Donghyuck unlocks the car, and Renjun makes his way to the passenger seat. 

“Yeah, Taeyong loaned it to me last August.” _August. Taeyong loaned it to him last_ August, the words ring in Renjun’s ear. _He was already here at the start of the year._ The ignition roars into life but to Renjun, it’s a distant thing. Renjun’s mind goes to overdrive.

Classes had started at the very start of August. If Taeyong loaned the car to Donghyuck last August that meant Donghyuck started the term here, that meant Donghyuck had spent two months on campus probably ignoring all of them. Last August meant not only did Donghyuck leave without a word, he also came back without a word. No, he did say something this time, didn’t he—because he kept in touch with Jeno, because he met up with Xuxi, because Mark knew.

Renjun’s right foot can’t stop fidgeting, up and down, up and down. He turns to the window instead. Nothing in him can stomach looking at Donghyuck with his thoughts going crazy. The phone in his hand vibrates—he takes a glance at it, keen on ignoring it but couldn’t afford to. It’s Jaemin. He skims through his text—the bile in his throat threatens to spill from his lips.

—

**emotional support boy**

_Junnie :(_

_Jisung and Chenle know_

_Sorry, bab_

—

He didn’t say anything. Lunch was a disaster but he didn’t say anything. Renjun kept his mouth firmly shut all throughout—he laughed, hummed, and nodded when appropriate but he didn’t say anything. Donghyuck tried to get him to tell stories about Jaemin, about his classes, about his art, about everything. He never budged though. Renjun didn’t think he could—he felt like if he even attempted to open his mouth, vomit would rush out. Or worse, he might beg Donghyuck for answers.

—

Someone texts Donghyuck on their way back. His phone _pings!_ while he’s driving and the moment he parks, he checks it. Renjun tries to act nonchalant about it but the curiosity on who it might be itches his mind.

“Shit,” Donghyuck swears before he types on his phone at almost lightning speed. He glances at Renjun, mouth opens and closes—hesitant before he speaks. “Do you think we can reschedule?” 

The tension leaks out of Renjun’s body before he can help it. “Sure.”

“I’ll take care of the Agar plates and test tubes,” Renjun says, reaching to unlock the seatbelt. It clicks without a hassle and slides back to its place with a hiss. “Go handle whatever the hell that is.” He opens the car door before taking a glance at Donghyuck. There’s something in his expression that Renjun can’t read. 

It surprises him, he never knew there was anything about Donghyuck Renjun couldn’t read.

“Sorry, Junnie.”

“It’s okay, weirdo.” Before Donghyuck could comment on the familiarity, Renjun already has one leg out of the door and his back turned. He doesn’t need to hear what Donghyuck has to say, and he definitely doesn’t need to contemplate on why he said that.

—

“Guys, Jeno’s a furry.”

“Shut up!” Jeno said before throwing a napkin at Donghyuck in retaliation. “All I did was call the tardigrade cute.”

Jaemin grimaced at him before taking a swing of his beer. “The tardigrade literally looks like an eyeless turtle with no shell.” Renjun laughed, nodding along with Donghyuck. “I’d be inclined to agree.”

“None of you have taste,” Jeno said with narrowed eyes and his finger pointing to each of them.

“No, it’s because none of us are furries.”

“Donghyuck!”

—

“Jun!” Someone calls out the moment he opens his dorm room door. His shoulders tense at the voice.

Fatigue settles into his bone, and he can’t escape from the mental exhaustion. He finished up the Agar plates and test tubes, and stored them. Every second he spent moving was a second his brain going overdrive. Renjun had no control of the steering wheel and his mind was going 160 km/h.

Renjun snaps out from his stupor and sees Jeno on his bed, cuddling one of his plushies. The betrayal he’s been avoiding these past few days pierces through him the moment he sees his face. He’s so tired.

“Hey, Jen,” he mutters, taking his eyes off of Jeno. Renjun focuses on Jaemin on his own bed. He has his eyes on him, and Renjun lightly shakes his head. There’s worry there that Renjun doesn’t want to entertain. He doesn’t step in—he can’t; Renjun can feel his chest threatening to burst.

“You okay, Jun?” _Why didn’t you tell me?_

“Jun?” _Why the fucking hell didn’t you tell me, Lee?_

“Renjun?” 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” A whisper, a hairwidth louder than the dull, static reverb of the AC. He sees sympathy wash over Jaemin’s gaze, and he can only guess the whimper he hears is from Jeno.

“Jun—” Renjun finally forces himself to look at Jeno.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” A little louder now, a little stronger, a little more tangible—he doesn’t know if he can say it louder without his voice breaking. His eyes are starting to burn.

Jeno hesitates. He opens and closes his mouth but his eyes stay on Renjun—eyes so full of sympathy, guilt and concern; Renjun feels his stomach convulse. 

“He didn’t want me to tell you,” Jeno whispers, just as soft, as malleable as Renjun’s own. Renjun didn’t think his world could crumble anymore than it has.

The stinging he feels in his eyes give in, and he breaks. Renjun burst into tears—every single frustration he felt these past few weeks, every single failing grade he managed to accumulate this month, every single feeling he gained from the moment he met Donghyuck to the moment Donghyuck left. He finally lets it out—he pours and pours until nothing is left of him. Until Jeno rises from his bed and guides him back. Until Jaemin climbs in with the both of them, comforting and sturdy. 

Renjun cries until he’s the cinder after a bonfire.

—

**microbio tutor**

_we need to talk_

_2pm @ visionary_

_wait, why?_

_renjun?_

_jun?_

_read 8:30 pm_

_ok junnie_

_see you_

—

_You need to talk to him_ , the voices in his head say over and over again—it sounds so much like Jeno and Jaemin, he clings to it with desperation. Renjun isn’t ready—for Donghyuck, for the talk, for whatever the hell comes out of this. He isn’t ready.

Visionary has always been Renjun’s favorite cafe. It was both close to the Medicine building _and_ it had good coffee. The whole aura of the cafe also bode well with him—the industrial style with the hung lights, steel stools, and exposed pipes. He found it aesthetically pleasing and comforting. Renjun wishes it’s enough to ice over his nerves.

Renjun’s finger traces the wooden rings on the table, breathing in and out—again and again and again. His cup is half empty, his right leg is fidgeting, and his mind is going on and on—he tries to prepare a speech in his brain but the words don’t stick and it feels like every single thought is being funneled down a single shoot, the container overflowing with them. He can’t think.

The bell in the cafe door rings. He almost ignores it, too focused on the way every cell in his body is existing and breathing in this moment; it almost gets lost in the hustle of the cafe and the static in his mind. Renjun sees Donghyuck enter—in a plain white shirt, hair messy, and this time, he has no smile on. Something like regret shadows him but it’s fleeting. _He started this. He dragged this. You have to talk to him._

“Hi,” Donghyuck says once he’s sat in front of Renjun. He doesn’t look good—Renjun feels a sick sort of satisfaction at the sight of his eye bags and the gaunt look on him. 

“Hi,” Renjun says, turning his eyes back to the table. He’s trying to gather everything in him to start the conversation. _Come on, Junnie,_ a whisper rings in his ear.

“Donghyuck—”

“I’m sorry.” Renjun glances at Donghyuck—he’s staring at the wall behind Renjun. Something in his eyes makes Renjun’s chest ache.

“I’m sorry I left without saying anything.” It’s back—the ice in Renjun’s throat is back. “I have no reason to justify my actions about that.”

“I—um… I applied for the Japan exchange… 2 months before I left. I was going to tell you. I swear by that. I was going to tell you, Xuxi, Jaem, Mark, Sungie, Lele and even Sicheng hyung—” Renjun looks at him with his eyebrows drawn together, in confusion.

“Jeno knew?” The guilt in Donghyuck’s eyes is so tangible—Renjun swears he could see them drip.

“Jeno was there when I applied.” _Oh_.

“A university in Japan was developing something in the field of Molecular Biology, they were looking for scholars who could participate. My Genetics professor told me about it when she recommended the exchange program our school collaborated on with them. She said even though I was a second year, with my grades, I could qualify for it. I didn’t really know what to think of it—I never got those kinds of offers before. I told her I would think about it.” _Distant, Donghyuck’s voice is so distant_. “Jeno heard about it—probably from the same prof—and encouraged me to apply, said it was a good opportunity—and it was. So I thought, why not?

“It was such a good opportunity for a second year to gain research experience,” Donghyuck sighs. “I didn’t want to say anything at first be—because… I didn’t want… pity if I didn’t qualify,” he whispers. “... I didn’t trust myself. If I didn’t get in, the only person who would be disappointed was me—and Jeno, I guess but I trusted Jeno not to ask.”

“Didn’t you trust us?”

“No—what? Yes,” panic almost takes hold of Donghyuck’s voice. “Yes, Jun. Of course I trusted you. All of you. It was just—insecurities, you know? They’re a pain in the ass. I kept telling myself I would tell all of you once I got accepted. But then—”

“But then?”

A beat of silence. “Something happened.”

“Donghyuck?”

“Nevermind.” A shake of a head. “It’s super personal—like a familial type of personal. Something happened and I forgot about it. Until—” he looks at Renjun with an expectant eye, Renjun raises an eyebrow without a word. Donghyuck slowly lowers his gaze back to the table, tracing the rings of the wood. Quiet blankets over him as Renjun continued staring at Donghyuck as Donghyuck collected himself.

“Xuxi.” Donghyuck says, finally.

_Oh._ “Your fight with Xuxi.”

“Yeah,” He says before inhaling, his lips shut taut. “At that point, I just—I needed to leave. Xuxi was confronting me with something I didn’t want to confront and—I ran. I left. I got back to my dorm and barricaded myself. Xuxi meant well but I just couldn’t—I couldn’t make myself think of it any more than I already had. Then I remembered— _fuck_ , the Japan exchange.

“I checked my email then—lo and behold, I got accepted,” Donghyuck lets out a breath of a laugh. “I was so relieved. There it was, in bold fonts, my ticket to run as far away as possible.”

“So you took it.”

“So I took it,” he nods, determinedly. “I didn’t call anyone to accompany me to the airport because I—I couldn’t. I couldn’t confront Xuxi. He’d—he’d just—we’d just fight again. He’d try to convince me to stay, to face the problem head on—but I just couldn’t. I knew Mark would ask, so would Jaemin. Jisung would also try to convince me to stay. Sicheng hyung would try to talk me out of it—he’d probably say it was a good opportunity but the reason I was leaving wasn’t the right one. Chenle would give me a disappointed look if he found out the reason. And you—”

“Me?” Donghyuck looks at him this time. There’s something in his eyes, a glint of _something_ —his shoulders relax and his expression goes soft.

Donghyuck whispers something—so soft, so small. It intertwines and spirals with the white noise of the cafe. The whisper never got to Renjun.

“Hm?”

“I wouldn’t have the strength to leave,” he whispers again. This time a little bit louder, a little bit stronger. “If you were there, I wouldn’t have the courage to leave.”

Renjun doesn’t know what to say. His chest tightened.

“I’m sorry,” Donghyuck says again.

There were hundreds more questions floating around Renjun’s head—like _why didn’t you text or call during your stay in Japan? Why didn’t you call when you came back? Why didn’t you call_ me _when you came back?_

_What are you running from Lee Donghyuck?_

_Are you running from_ me _?_

“It’s okay,” Renjun says instead. 

He means it.

—

**donghyuck**

_junnie_

_lab again?_

_on tuesday?_

_what time_

_3 ?_

_yup !!_

_cools_

_see u_

_see you !!_

—

“Where the hell is this from this time?” Renjun holds up the container with the swab inside it.

“From the urinal flush button,” Donghyuck says with a wicked smile.

“That’s so gross,” Renjun laughs with his nose scrunched and a grimace on his lips. He focuses on the Agar plate and test tubes in front of them, opening the container. Donghyuck huffs out a smile from beside him; he has his arm crossed, observing the way Renjun handles the swab.

Renjun hums to the melody of Mr. Loverman as he swipes the swab on the Petri Dish in a zigzag motion. _Right-left, right-left, right-left-right_ . _One down_ , he thinks. The start of culturing has always been monotonous work. It was usually the time where Renjun plans what he’ll study that night or what he’ll eat for dinner. Right now, Renjun has Donghyuck beside him—comfortable and confident—telling him a story about one of his adventures in Japan.

“You know Nara Dreamland, right?” Renjun nods. “Of course, how could I forget—you and your urbex obsession.”

“It’s not an obsession,” Renjun says, taking a second to glare at Donghyuck before focusing back on his work. Donghyuck snorts. “Yeah, right.”

“Anyway, some of my colleagues—both Japanese and not—share your obsession—” Renjun interrupts him with a strangled gurgle. “I’m just calling it what it is, Junnie. Now, shut up and focus on your work.”

“Anyway, they were talking about visiting Tokyo Disneyland, and then another Korean exchange student mentioned Dreamland,” Donghyuck says. “One of the Japanese students then got super excited and told a story of the time she visited the park with her friends. She said they _actually_ heard ghost noises in one of the buildings they went in. Everyone got curious, they started asking questions. _Blah, blah, blah._ Before you know it, our whole MolecBio group is planning an urbex outing to Nara Dreamland and I’m being forced to participate because of peer pressure.”

“Do you have pictures?” Renjun asks, his eyes still on his task. The Agar plate in front of him has now been replaced with the test tubes. _Agar slants_. There’s three on the test tube rack so he takes the rack with him before going to the biosafety cabinet and turning it on. Donghyuck follows him until they’re near the refrigerator—he makes his way to it, taking out one of the Agar plates with a single-colony in it. He places it in the biosafety cabinet beside Renjun.

“No,” Donghyuck laughs. His eyes on Renjun as he opened the lid of the petri dish and swiped it with an inoculating loop. Renjun glances at him with a smirk before turning back to his work. “I managed to get out of it when I ended up _sick_ the day we were supposed to go.”

“Sick?” Renjun teases.

“Yes, sick,” Donghyuck says, trying to put up an offended front before breaking out in laughter. The same one he always had, the one Renjun remembers the most. He smiles at the thought.

“Sure,” Renjun hums. 

Moments pass in silence as Donghyuck’s laugh trails off. Renjun too focused on his work to think of something to say; Donghyuck too focused on observing Renjun culturing. It’s soothing, a quiet lull with only a hush of a Mumford and Sons melody blankets them; quiet but not awkward—it was comfortable, for once. Renjun feels grateful.

Renjun finishes up the last test tube before screwing it shut with the lid. He also closes the Petri Dish with it’s own lid, giving it to Donghyuck; he puts it back in the refrigerator with the test tube rack while Renjun walks over back to their table to fetch the Agar plates.

“Do you want to get something to eat after this?” Donghyuck asks, shutting the refrigerator door. He looks at Renjun with an expectant— _hopeful_ look and something that feels a lot like a stomach ache racks his stomach.

“Dinner?” Renjun asks as he balances the Agar plates on his hands, trying to turn on the incubator. Donghyuck laughs before he makes his way to him, taking two of the plates from him.

“No, not dinner,” Donghyuck says. Renjun _finally_ turns on the incubator, cranking up the temperature to 35 Celcius. He waits for a few minutes. “I have plans with someone for dinner.”

Renjun stutters as he opens the incubator—he doesn’t know why but something in him wills him to ask. “Who?”

“Chenle,” Donghyuck whispers. Renjun glances at him and he’s looking at Renjun with a glint in his eyes—like he’s waiting for a reaction—whether good or bad, Renjun isn’t quite sure.

“Cool,” Renjun smiles at Donghyuck. _It’s just Chenle_ — _fuck! Even if it wasn’t Chenle,_ he wasn’t allowed to feel whatever he felt for a second when Donghyuck said he had dinner plans. _None of my business._

He reaches for the Agar plates in Donghyuck’s hands and puts them inside the incubator. Renjun closes it shut before fully turning to Donghyuck with a smile. Fake or not, still debatable.

“What do you have in mind?”

Donghyuck’s mischievous rebel-of-a-smile was something Renjun grew to miss these past few months—he guesses the burning in his chest meant his heart did too.

—

**markie-poo**

_markie_

_u free tonight?_

_ye_

_y?_

_ur spelling is atrocious_

_dinner @ cherry bomb?_

_pot_

_kettle_

_neway_

_fuck ye_

_shawarma :]]]]]_

_boooooo ://///_

_tempura :]]]]]]_

_6 pm?_

_got it_

_ur taste is atrocious_

_cheater_

_that was copy paste_

_:pppp_

—

“Who are you texting?”

Renjun looks up from his phone with a smile—Mark was flooding him with memes. Donghyuck looks at his phone, with a curious tilt of his head. 

“Mark,” Renjun laughs. He takes a chance and glances back at his phone—Mark has now taken his silence as permission to copy paste the whole Bee Movie script into their messages. Renjun just hopes Mark remembers their dinner plans. Donghyuck clears his throat—Renjun looks up with a start. There’s a glint in his eyes that goes away as quickly as it came. 

“God, I haven’t talked to Mark in a hot minute,” Donghyuck chuckles, stirring his milkshake with the straw. 

They ended up driving to a restaurant in the outskirts of North Campus. The arcade plus diner aesthetic of it was actually really interesting to Renjun. The different colored lights and technicolor shades of the walls looked like it was something out of a 80’s movie. He hears the unmistakable Pac-man theme playing in his far left. It felt almost right with the shiny squeaky chairs and the checkered floor tiles.

“Yeah?” Renjun asks after taking a sip from his own drink. Donghyuck ended up ordering a cookies and cream milkshake while Renjun got a strawberry milkshake and a basket of fries. “You haven’t talked to him since you came back?”

“No,” he coughs into his hand—avoiding looking at Renjun. “I actually already did.”

“Oh.”

“I mean—”

“No, it's fine,” Renjun rushes, trying to detangle the tension. “You and Mark are friends. Don’t worry, Hyuckie.”

Donghyuck blushes at that. Renjun isn’t really sure why. “No, Jun. I mean—my lecture hall for Ethics is right beside the classroom for Gender Studies that he’s TA-ing for. I bumped into him one time, and we caught up.”

“Hyuck,” Renjun says, pointedly. “You don’t have to explain.” Donghyuck winces before focusing on his milkshake. “Also I think Mark mentioned that class before. He was pretty excited about that.”

“Yeah, something about the professor being his favorite.”

“Huh? I don’t think he ever mentioned a favorite prof.”

“She’s a pretty famous prof—uhhh…. Short blonde hair, with really round glasses, looks like she’s in her twenties—I think.”

“Oh! I know her—I think I’ve had her as a professor before, what was her name again?”

“... Ms. Yewon?”

“Oh yeah, right! I had her for Ethics. She was pretty cool. I remember she told us a story of how she managed to talk her way out of a cult…”

—

“I think it’s the eyebrows,” Mark said, eyes narrowed in observation before shifting his attention back to Renjun. He just hummed in approval, attention still on the bento in front of him. “Don’t you think?”

“You good, Renjun?” Mark asked, head tilted to the side. Renjun shifted his eyes to him and the curious glint in Mark’s eyes softly turned to something more understanding. “Still Donghyuck, huh?”

“Tell me it isn’t weird,” Renjun whispered. He almost wished the hustle and bustle of the food park they were in the middle of could drown his whisper away. The Chloe x Halle song that was blaring from the speaker next to them almost made him hope Mark didn’t hear it—but when it came to friends and helping, Mark almost had super powers. 

“It isn’t weird, Junnie,” Mark said with a soft smile. “You not being over Donghyuck isn’t weird. You not being okay with Lucas and Donghyuck dating isn’t weird. None of it is weird. It’s messy, sure—what about feelings aren’t messy? but it isn’t weird.”

Renjun searched Mark’s eyes for something—insincerity? Pity? Renjun didn’t know, he just searched for something that contradicted anything Mark said. Something in him bled when he found nothing.

“Take your time, Junnie. Donghyuck and Xuxi will still be here once you’ve figured everything out.”

—

**donghyuck**

_junnie_

_we still up for fri?_

_ye_

_12:00?_

_yup!!_

_wanna get lunch before we start?_

_sure_

_cherry bomb?_

_hell yeah_

_i missed cherry bomb TT_

_lol_

_see u_

_see you!!_

  
  


—

A Great Big World played in the distance as they walked through the quadrangle. Brown leaves littered the ground, a stark contrast with the gray lifeless cement. They crunched against his Converse—almost making him feel like a kid again. The chill was back again, solidifying the fact that it was nearing winter. His oversized black hoodie feels almost like a hug against the cold.

“Do you think I can get away with shifting?” Jeno asks beside him. He takes a bite on his Samanco before turning to Renjun. A faint blush on his cheeks and nose.

“Shifting? In your third year?” Renjun snorts.

“Yeah,” Jeno whines. “Could maybe shift to MolecBio.”

Renjun laughs as he takes a bite from his Melona. “You’re joking right?”

“Maybe, maybe not,” Jeno mumbles.

“It’s just DevBio, Jen.”

“It’s _hard_ , Jun,” Jeno whines, stomping his feet. Renjun giggles at him.

“I already told you, I’ll help,” Renjun says, a smile still on his lips.

“Yeah, but it’s still hard,” Jeno groans.

“Oh my god,” Renjun rolls his eyes at him. “Come on, finish your ice cream so you can stop whining and we can go back to studying.”

“But Jun, listen, I honestly think my DevBio teacher is after my ass—no, listen to me, okay? She failed me in our first quiz but when I got it back….”

—

**donghyuck**

_so now_

_hes hell bent on proving his prof is after his ass_

_even tho personally i think his ta was the one who checked his paper_

_LMAO_

_did you tell him that ?????_

_uhhh_

_no_

_JUNNIE_

_wh??????_

_not my fault he forgot he has a ta_

_poor jeno :////_

_:///////_

_what r you doing?_

_uhhhhh_

_studying biochem_

_rip u_

_atleast i dont have anachem anymore :D_

_BOOOOOOOOO_

_THAT WAS A FOUL_

_not my fault u didnt take it last year_

_they didnt have it in the exchange curriculum TT TT_

_rip u_

_ >:[ _

  
  


—

“Mr. Huang,” Mr. Kim calls out before Renjun could make his way out of the laboratory. His head snaps to him with a quiet ‘yes, sir?’. “I’d like to discuss something with you.”

“Of course, sir,” he says, tugging on the straps of his backpack. His breathing starts to become shallow and his palms start to sweat as he watches Mr. Kim skim through the recent lab reports. Renjun had worked _hard_ with the last two reports—bothering and peer-pressuring Donghyuck to look through it twice before he finally conceded that there was nothing to be done to save his activities and finally printing it. Renjun wishes the nights of crying, mending his relationship with Donghyuck, and studying had been worth it.

Renjun’s chest tightens as Mr. Kim stops sifting through the papers, humming once he’s seen Renjun’s name. He thumbs the paper before pulling it out, and then doing the same to the next paper. The suspense of Mr. Kim just casually humming and looking through his paper has him on the brink of pulling his hair out in frustration and just passing out right there and then.

“Good job, Mr. Huang,” he finally says, handing Renjun the two lab reports. “Continue this and you’ll turn your grades around by the end of the semester.”

Renjun bows at him in thanks before taking the papers from him. His heart drops to the fucking ground as he sees the bright red 89% on the front of the first report—and when he rushes to see the next one, he feels his lungs collapse. _96%_.

_Holy shit_.

—

  
  


**donghyuck**

  
  


_junnie!!_

_im omw_

_cools_

_i’m already here_

_okie okie_

_you up for cake after_

_as celeb?_

_sure!!!!!_

_HELL YEAHHHHHHHHHHHHH_

—

“I think you missed a swipe.”

“I’ll swipe the inoculating loop at your face if you don’t stop.”

“Jeez! I’m supposed to be tutoring you—remember, Junnie? My job is to literally criticize your work.”

“I think you’re shit at your job.”

“Woah! Okay then, Mr. 96 percent.”

“E.coli, Hyuckie. This is E.coli. Just wanted to remind you before you say anything else.”

—

  
  


**hyuckie**

_junnie!!_

  
  


_ye?_

_you up for coffee?_

_sure_

_visionary?_

_nah_

_i found a nice one in NC_

_dunk shot ?_

_pick me up ?_

_lol sure_

_bring your anachem notes last year_

_LMAOOOOOOO_

_i cant believ ur bringing up chem on a sat_

_shut up_

_be ready in 30_

—

On a random Friday, Renjun offers to drive Donghyuck to the diner. 

Once at the parking lot behind the Science building, Donghyuck throws his keys at him with a smile and a single promise not to judge his driving. Renjun is suddenly reminded that Donghyuck has never seen him drive. _This should be fun_ , Renjun thinks as he makes his way to the driver’s side.

“Seatbelt,” Renjun reminds him with a teasing smile before he inserts the keys into the ignition. He revs it and the sweet sound of the engine roaring fills the empty space.

“Okay, Mr. Safety,” Donghyuck teases him back. He tugs on the seatbelt before turning back to Renjun with a smile—his head leans back on the seat as he reclines the chair, afternoon sun hitting his hair and it shines like celestial bronze under the light—Donghyuck brings his knees up to chest—shifting, trying to get comfortable with the seat belt digging at his stomach. The soft smile on his face grows bigger once he finds a comfortable position; he brings out his phone and connects it to the AUX cord. Not a second later, Strawberry and Cigarettes wafts through the air of the car like smoke. 

And what a sight he was to behold—Donghyuck is celestial bronze with a dangerous carefree smile on his lips as he sways to the sound of teenage dreams.

Renjun focuses back on the road with a breath of a laugh and presses on the gas.

—

 **h** **yuckie**

  
  


_im just saying_

_its illegal_

_no_

_its not_

_yes it is_

_no_

_its not_

_yes it is_

_no it is not_

_it is_

_DONGHYUCK_

—

  
  


**hyuckie**

_hyuck_

_u free on thurs_

_after classes_

_yeah_

_i think so_

_why?_

_cools_

_cnt make it on fri_

_move our sesh to thurs_

_3:30 ?_

_sure !!_

_see u !!_

_see u_

—

“So how are you holding up?” Jisung asks as he aims the cue stick.

Jisung called Renjun last Tuesday, complaining about not being caught up with the whole Donghyuck situation—whining about how it isn’t fair he was out of the loop just because he doesn’t take a science course. _History rights, hyung!_ Jisung whined in the call. So that’s how they found themselves in a diner at the outskirts of the University, playing billiards. The neon lights brighten up the place as the night stills outside the building. The place isn’t very crowded—just enough for each group to have a pool table of their own. 

The balls crackle as they hit each other—sound drowning out another Brockhampton song playing.

“Okay, I guess” Renjun says, focused on aiming his cue.

“You guess?” Jisung mocks him, his eyes on the table. He winces as Renjun takes a hit before he takes a swing on his beer. None of the balls fall into any of the pockets. “The love of your life comes home after a whole semester and then spent half of _this_ semester ignoring you. And you’re _just_ okay?”

“Not the love of my life,” Renjun mutters before nodding at him for his turn. 

“Sure,” Jisung snickers, bending over. “And I’m not the best billiards player in the group.” _Crack!_ Jisung’s cue ball hits a red ball causing it to fall into a pocket.

“Show-off,” Renjun rolls his eyes at him.

“No but seriously, hyung.” Jisung looks at him. “You good?”

Renjun doesn’t answer him, not at first. He aims his cue, hits his cue ball, and watches Jisung’s cue ball fall into the pocket as he contemplates what he’s going to say. After a few seconds of silence, Renjun settles with a —“Yes.”—And it surprises him how truthful that actually is. He is okay. Donghyuck is going through something else—he is _still_ running from something. But that’s something they can work through together once they’ve gone back to something that resembles their past relationship. This—their situation now, reconciling and catching up? This is something Renjun is surprisingly okay with.

Jisung nods once again focusing on the game. “Are you still in love with him?” The question is straightforward—it shouldn’t have caught Renjun off-guard but it does. It’s the question Renjun has been avoiding since Jaemin first brought it up. He doesn’t think he’s ready to think about that just yet—he only _just_ forgave Donghyuck for leaving without a word. 

“No.” Renjun wonders why it sounds so pathetic to say out loud.

“Are you sure, hyung?” _Crack!_ “I mean—I don’t mean to pry but Jaemin hyung said you aren’t home again often. Just like when you first met Donghyuck hyung, and we all know how that ended,” Jisung looks at him, pointedly. Renjun groans. The implication Jisung is making makes him wish he didn’t bring Jaemin’s car with them—sobriety feels like an absolute curse with the direction of the conversation.

“He’s tutoring me for my MicroBio class,” is the excuse he comes up with. _Crack!_ Renjun avoids thinking about all the other times Donghyuck called him to hang out that had nothing to do with tutoring.

“How’s that going, by the way?,” Jisung asks, nodding at Renjun hitting a red ball. He assesses the table for a second before he crouches in position. 

“All good.” _Crack!_ “I think I’ll be able to bring my grade up to a 1.5 or hopefully, 1.3 by the end of the semester,” Renjun says with a hum. Jisung straightens his back while nodding at him in approval. “All I need to do is to get a high grade on the final labwork and the last assessment then I’m all set. Goodbye MicroBio.”

“Goodbye MicroBio,” Jisung snorts before taking a drink. “As if, Mr. Future Doctor.” He doesn’t look at Renjun, keeping his eyes on the game. Renjun brandishes him with the middle finger before assessing the table.

Renjun bends down, aiming his cue. “How’s your life going, anyway?” _Crack!_

“Boring,” Jisung shakes his head with a groan. “Assignments. Tests. You know—everything you can classify as education, I guess.”

“Sounds exciting,” Renjun laughs. “How’s Chenle?”

“A mess,” Jisung says with a scrunch of the nose. “He texted me at 11 pm last night to live message me while he was cramming a paper due at 12 am that same night.” He leans on his cue slightly, with a grimace.

“Sounds exactly like Chenle,” Renjun laughs. A few beats pass before he asks—“Have you told him yet?”

“Nope,” Jisung says with the pop of the ‘p’. “I plan on telling him soon though. Have this whole trip planned and everything.” Renjun smiles at Jisung’s ‘nonchalant’ front. From what Jaemin has told Renjun, Jisung has spent the better part of summer break planning and saving for their semester break trip to Jeju.

“That’s good.” Renjun nods at Jisung, focusing again on the game. He’s happy for Jisung—truly, don’t get him wrong—Renjun just wishes his love life was as simple as his.

Jisung bends down. Renjun’s eyes idle as Jisung aims. He catches sight of a flickering neon light—a part of his mind bristles at merely the thought of confessing. _You aren’t in love with him anymore. You have_ nothing _to confess._ _Crack!_ His head snaps back to Jisung. “You okay, hyung?” He asks with a click of a tongue.

“Yup,” Renjun forces a smile. “Don’t worry.”

—

Renjun realized he was in love with Donghyuck on a Friday night.

“Why mini golf?” Renjun asked. The moment they stepped inside, they were drowned in UV lights and bright LEDs.

Donghyuck turned to him, glowing teeth and all. “Why not?” He teased Renjun before making his way to the counter. Renjun followed him with a snort.

They did this a lot. Go out just the two of them—nothing on their agenda but to spend time with each other. Renjun was still close to Jaemin and Jeno but something about spending time with Donghyuck just left Renjun exhilarated—like he was ready to take on another week of classes. It was always Donghyuck insisting, anyway—and Renjun, well, he didn’t have it in him to decline.

The counter was a marvelous thing; clean white, curved and turquoise LED lined edges, with a glass center. The guy at the register stood in the middle of it all, phone in hand and bopping to the echo of a beat. Donghyuck leaned on the counter with a smile, knocking on the counter. The guy glanced at him before a wide smile grew on his face.

“Hey, Jaehyun hyung,” Donghyuck said. Renjun looked at him, curious. He spared him a smile before turning back to Jaehyun. “Two please?”

“Coming right up, Hyuckie,” Jaehyun said before disappearing to the door behind him.

“Jaehyun hyung is Jeno’s brother and my tutor,” Donghyuck filled Renjun in. Renjun let out a curious hum. “Didn’t really know until Jeno visited him during one of our tutoring sessions.”

“Jeno never mentioned a brother before,” Renjun said absent-mindedly. Donghyuck just hummed with a shrug.

Jaehyun came out of the door, holding two golf clubs in one hand and a basket of golf balls in the other. “Here you go,” he said, passing them to Donghyuck and Renjun. “How many hours?” 

Donghyuck looked at Renjun—to which Renjun just shrugged—before he looked back to Jaehyun. “Just two hours.”

“Mmm ‘kay,” Jaehyun hummed, tapping something on the computer before handing something to Donghyuck. “It’ll buzz once you’re done. You can just pay after.”

Donghyuck smiled at him and let out an enthusiastic “thank you hyung!” While Renjun just spared him a tight lipped smile. They made their way to the back of the divider.

A neon wonderland welcomed them as they stepped into the room. UV lights and LED lights of every single color in the rainbow, Renjun revelled at how beautiful it all came together to the sound of Kaleidoscope. He glanced at Donghyuck and marvelled again at how Donghyuck seemed to attract colors as it clung to him creating a mosaic on his skin. Renjun thought he looked like art under the multi-colored lights.

“Shit,” Donghyuck said once they made their way to the first course, head banging to the beat. “I fucking love this song.” 

“Right?” Renjun said, enthusiastically. He gripped that moment in his fist as he wished that they could just stay like that—with Donghyuck, with his mosaic, losing himself to the music of A Great Big World.

“I was so skeptical when they first released it but holy shit, it's so good,” Renjun gushed. He focused on the course, ignoring the way he spent too long staring at Donghyuck again. Pink lights lined the 9 feet long course, fake grass littered with cellophane—it made one hell of a spectacle as it reflected the lights—the end of the course was slanted, and the hole at the very end was illuminated by the kaleidoscope floor lights around it.

Donghyuck hummed before handing the yellow club to Renjun. He took it with a small ‘thank you.’ “You know what we should do?” Renjun hummed, placing the bucket on the floor. “I think we should have a listening party in your dorm.”

Renjun glanced at him, eyebrows scrunched and lips in a smirk. “What?”

“I mean, okay,” Donghyuck said, leaning on his club—posture relaxed and unabashed, Renjun decided he liked Donghyuck best when he was like that. He nodded at Renjun as if to say ‘you first’—which Renjun took as a sign to turn his back on him. “You have a great music taste. _I_ have a great music taste. It’s a win-win.”

Renjun laughed before placing a golf ball in front of him. He eyed the uphill of the course, trying to think of how much strength he should put for the ball to make it. After a few moments, he took the chance and hit the ball. It _almost_ made it—the ball rolled until the tip of the slant before it gave up and rolled back down.

Donghyuck let out a tiny cute giggle, trying hard to keep it in. Renjun’s head snapped at his direction, his glare as sharp as ice and as dangerous as knives—some part of him is giddy at the thought of him being the reason why. “Sorry,” Donghyuck muttered, still keeping the giggles in.

“Shut.”

Renjun ended up taking four more tries—the course was long and the uphill at the end turned out to be a pain in the ass—before it finally fell in the hole. All while Donghyuck stood beside him, smiling and encouraging him. They jumped in celebration as Renjun shouted excitedly—arms wrapped around Renjun in an embrace. Breath got caught in his throat as Donghyuck pulled him close. His pulse started to quicken. _What the fuck_ . Donghyuck still laughed as they stopped jumping, his chin resting on Renjun’s neck. _Fuck_ . His laugh rang in Renjun’s ear—his hands shook as he placed it to the small of Donghyuck’s back. _What’s happening_. They stayed like that for a moment before Donghyuck pulled away, a wide carefree smile still on his lips.

“You did it, Junnie!” Donghyuck said, buzzing with excitement. His smile so bright against the LED lights—carefree, fond and every bit unhinged as it always did—his eyes crinkled and shimmering like glitter. It was all so normal. Yet why the hell did he feel like he just had the biggest revelation of the century. Renjun’s stomach convulsed as he found himself smiling back at him.

_Oh no._

—

“So,” Donghyuck trails off with pursed lips. “Anaerobic, huh?”

Renjun had just gotten the unfortunate news that for their last assessment, they had to do an Anaerobic culture—just that; one culture and Renjun’s future will be decided.

“I will stick this loop up your ass.”

“Okay, calm down,” Donghyuck says, his hands raised in a surrender. Renjun rolls his eyes at him before turning back to focus on sanitizing the inoculating loop in the flame of the Bunsen burner. “Anaerobic isn’t that bad, you know?” Renjun is so speechless at the bullshit coming out of Donghyuck’s mouth, he settles with fixing Donghyuck with a deadpan stare.

“Positivity is a no go then, huh,” Donghyuck hums, walking to the biosafety cabinet and turning it on. “Okay, how about....”

“You help me and walk me through it?” Renjun asks, directing a teasing smile at Donghyuck. “Much appreciated.”

“—Emotionless approach,” Donghyuck laughs, loud and rambunctious; he makes his way to the fridge and examines it. “Got it.”

“Not emotionless, weirdo,” Renjun says with a smile—he turns off the Bunsen burner and makes his way to the anaerobic glove chamber with the inoculating loop and a clean Agar plate in hand. “I know how hard anaerobic culturing is—even Mr. Kim said he used to find it hard when he started.” He looks at Donghyuck as Donghyuck turns to him with a raised brow and a soft smile. “I don’t need you to sugarcoat it.”

“I don’t think it’s sugarcoating,” Donghyuck says, walking up to Renjun. The glint of a smile in his eyes turns thoughtful as he opens the box and lays the Agar plate with the specimen beside Renjun’s clean Petri dish. “I’d rather think of it as encouraging.”

Renjun huffs out a laugh—endearment filling his chest—before nodding at the Agar plate. “Just teach me, yeah?”

Donghyuck looks at him, up close his eyes look every bit as honey and home as they always did. The same eyes Renjun fell in love with—with its kaleidoscope of color and shimmer under the sun, and its transparency when it comes to emotions. Donghyuck’s eyes were every bit of a story as they were when he left. A beat of silence before a smile stretches across his face—carefree in all its glory, seeping with mischief and trouble, but there’s something in it that welcomes you—something sweet, something soft, something careful—Renjun marvels at how Donghyuck was every single thing in the universe in harmony. 

“Okay so. You may notice that this is a beast of a thing: the gloves, the screws, the knobs, it's a bit—”

“Much,” Renjun says with a smile. Donghyuck laughs—sweet and soft. A touch of heat spreads on Renjun’s ears.

“Yeah, abit much. But you shouldn’t be intimidated. I’ll teach you how to use it.” Donghyuck gives him a run down of the buttons at the top of the chamber; what to press to open the chamber, how to make sure it’s locked, the button that drains out the oxygen inside the chamber. He makes sure to go over each button on the chamber, not missing a bit—Renjun almost forgot how passionate Donghyuck can be when it comes to anything involving Biology. He’s a beast and a half—truly, Lee Donghyuck is a sight to behold.

“I’m pretty sure Mr. Kim will grade how you use it in your assessment so I hope you’re taking notes.”

“Of course, Doctor Lee,” Renjun teases him, a small smile on his lips. He admires the way Donghyuck blushes at the title and how he splutters to deny it. Something itches under his skin.

“Not a doctor,” Donghyuck mock glares at him. Renjun just laughs—but he will be. Someday. Donghyuck used to swore to the stars that by the end of his life, he’ll have the word PhD at the end of his name. Renjun never doubted that.

“No but you will be getting a doctorate so,” Renjun trails off, eyeing Donghyuck. “Might as well be.”

Donghyuck shifts back to the chamber and picks at the gloves hanging from it with a small smile. “You think I can make it all the way to a doctorate?”

_Idiot._

“Yeah,” Renjun whispers. “I think you can do absolutely anything you put yourself into, Hyuckie.”

Renjun thinks the smile Donghyuck welcomes him is as bright as the bonfires they light up every Holiday break party.

—

The wisteria tree behind the Math building was a sight to behold on a spring day—with its lavender flowers that fell like drops against the green grass. Donghyuck would constantly joke that the reason there was a wisteria tree behind the Math building was because Math was so depressing, they needed something to lift up their spirits. Renjun would just laugh and scold him for being mean.

At night, everything felt different. The stars were bright and they seemed to litter the dark blue sky like glitter—shimmering. The wisteria tree was whimsical as it glistened under the moonlight—lavender flowers turning into teardrops when the light hit it at the perfect moment.

It was Donghyuck’s idea—to drive up to the Math building and stargaze under the wisteria tree. They had taken Jaemin’s car, throwing a bottle of box wine and two blankets in the backseat before making their way up the hill. Once they got there, they parked the car in front of the Math building and made their way to the back—with Donghyuck in his hoodie carrying their cheap wine and Renjun in his silk pajamas trying to navigate with the blankets almost covering his face.

They laid down the blankets near the tree and popped open the box wine—Donghyuck took a few sips before passing it over to Renjun

“This is almost vinegar,” Renjun said with a grimace after he took a sip. Donghyuck laughed—loud and rambunctious as always.

“Beggars can’t be choosers, Junnie,” Donghyuck said as he took the bottle back from Renjun.

Renjun hummed, gazing at the stars—trying to pinpoint constellations, trying to ignore the boy beside him and the way his head rested on Renjun’s shoulder. His stomach coiled at the heat and the ghost of a touch on his waist.

The sound of wind brushing against the flowers of the wisteria tree and the passing of the bottle filled the air as they both just stared at the sky—Renjun marvelled at how the stars seemed to shine twice as bright here as they do back in his dormitory, how the air seemed a lot clearer, how everything seemed a lot simpler here—under the wisteria tree, under the night sky.

“What do you plan to do after uni?” Donghyuck asked before taking a long drink of wine. Renjun took a glance at the boy next to him. He always seemed to glisten under the moonlight, Renjun thought.

“Not much—go to Med school, definitely,” Renjun said, plucking some of the grass in front of him. He heard Donghyuck hum before he passed the bottle to Renjun. “Try to finalize my specialization.” He nodded at Donghyuck in thanks.

“Specialization? Already?”

“Best to be prepared,” Renjun said before taking a drink. “How about you?”

“I’m getting my master’s degree,” Donghyuck said—something about his tone ridden with conviction, it felt tangible and solid. Renjun almost smiled at how stubborn Donghyuck sounded. “I’m not sure if I’ll automatically go into the medical research field or take some time in academe and _then_ go into medical research but I know one thing for sure—”

“And that is?” Renjun shifted his gaze towards Donghyuck—he didn’t expect for Donghyuck to turn to him too, his head still rested on Renjun’s shoulder. Renjun’s heartbeat was echoing and pounding against his eardrums at the sight of Donghyuck’s eyelashes and moles up close.

“I won’t rest until there’s a PhD under my name.”

A pin-drop whisper but something about it stuck with Renjun even against the racing of his heart.

—

Once Renjun gets the hang of the buttons and the controls, Renjun puts on the gloves and does the culturing while Donghyuck dictates everything to him. The red blood Agar is a stark contrast against the white walls and the glass chamber. His inoculating loop creates dents on the Agar as he counts in his head how many swipes he’s making. Thirteen continuous swipes on top, thirteen swipes on the right, and 14 on the bottom left.

“You’ll have to properly close both Agar plates,” Donghyuck says before making his way back to their bags. “Where’s the Petri seal?”

“First front pocket of my bag,” Renjun says, carefully placing the covers on each of the Agar plates—trying very hard not to disturb the cultures.

Donghyuck hums in acknowledgement. A few minutes of silence pass before Renjun hears Donghyuck’s footsteps click closer to him. He opens the door at the side of the chamber and puts the seal in it before locking it and pressing the button on top of the chamber to suck the oxygen out of it. The chamber makes a whirring sound before the light above the door lights up a bright red.

“Okay, you’re good to go,” Donghyuck hums. Renjun hums back, opening the door of the side chamber from the inside—taking the Petri seal and making do sealing the cultures. A quiet lull surrounds them as Renjun focuses on making sure the Agar plates are tightly shut while Donghyuck does what Donghyuck does.

Renjun quickly realizes Donghyuck isn’t beside him anymore when he’s done with sealing the Petri dishes. He looks around instantly before hearing rustling in the closet at the other end of the laboratory.

“Donghyuck?” He calls out.

“Yeah?” Donghyuck hollers back at him.

“I’m done sealing it!”

“Yeah—give me a minute!”

After a few minutes—where Renjun hums a Rina Sawayama song under his breath while counting the amount of stain there are on the white walls behind the chamber, trying to think of how he can bribe Jaemin to get tempura with him in Cherry Bomb when he hates the always noisy crowd at the place—Donghyuck steps out of the closet with a tub-like plastic equipment that he clambers with until he lays it—with a sound _clang!_ —on the table nearest to Renjun.

“Uhm—”

“Meet the McIntosh and Filde’s Anaerobic Jar, your new best friend.”

“Absolutely not.” Renjun fixes a deadpan glare at Donghyuck, who just smiles at him brightly as he does jazz hands towards the anaerobic jar.

—

“Mark, I don’t think you should—”

“Let him,” Donghyuck laughed. “The idiot is going to get himself hurt.”

“You only say that because you aren’t going to be the one dragging his ass back to the dorm to clean up his mess,” Renjun said, glaring at him.

“Yeah, exactly.”

“You are an asshol—Mark!”

“Oh my god,” Donghyuck’s laugh dominated the pop disco music playing in the roller skate rink while Renjun rushed to make sure Mark was conscious enough for their walk home.

—

They finish their tutoring session an hour and a half— _tops,_ Renjun thinks. By the end of it, they’re sealing the jar and Renjun feels slightly confident for his assessment next week. He doesn’t point out the worried glances Donghyuck sends him nor the drops of acid that sizzle at the pit of Renjun’s tummy.

Renjun hops behind Donghyuck—fidgeting slightly, snapping his fingers—as he locks the door of the Microbiology laboratory. He turns to him with crinkled eyes and a breath of a laugh in his smile.

“What’s wrong?” Donghyuck asks, pocketing the keys. Renjun idly follows his hands before his head snaps up, finally registering the question directed at him.

“Nothing,” Renjun hums, trying not to fidget—he goes through what Donghyuck taught him over and over again in his head, making sure he isn’t forgetting anything.

Donghyuck observes him for a minute—looking him in the eye, something in Renjun burns on fire and the itch beneath his skin is back. He tries not to scratch it. Donghyuck seems to settle on something after that. “I’ll visit your dorm on Sunday.”

“Wait—why?” Renjun asks. Donghyuck just smiles at him—the itch intensifies so much Renjun can’t help but scratch his wrist.

“Refresher.” Donghyuck tilts his head. “For Monday.”

The itch doesn’t leave him—not once, at all, that day.

—

Jaemin was watching Dark on their TV that night while Renjun was working on his assignments on his bed—once in a while, scratching his wrist like a cat to a scratch box before going back to typing.

Something is bugging his mind. Something is clogging his brain—he can’t write his research paper for his Biochemistry class properly with his thoughts a complete mess, buzzing and vibrating, hurting his chest. He doesn’t even know what it is—he just knows it’s happening.

Renjun’s fingers twitch as he tries to stop himself from scratching the itch on his left elbow. He lets out a frustrated sigh before dramatically flopping on his bed.

“What the hell are you doing?” Jaemin asks, pausing the show he was watching.

“Dying,” Renjun groans. He stuffs his face into one of the Moomin plushies decorating his bed.

“Okay, Mr. Dramatic,” Jaemin laughs, pressing play on the remote. “When’s your last MicroBio assessment again?”

“Monday.”

“Ahhhh… Maybe you should call Donghyuck for a quick rundown on Sunday,” Jaemin suggests before he goes back to slurping on his ramen.

“He’s already coming.”

“Oh yeah?” Something funny is laced in his tone and it makes Renjun snap up to look at him. Jaemin is staring at the screen, trying to look nonchalant but the shit-eating grin on his face isn’t helping at all.

“What do you know?” Renjun grits out, his eyes narrow at him.

“Nothing,” Jaemin looks at him with narrowed eyes. “I know absolutely nothing.”

“I hate you,” Renjun groans, slamming his face back onto the plushie.

Jaemin hums before turning up the TV’s volume. Renjun just groans again, scratching his wrist. What Jaemin said makes him think back today—he doesn’t want to but once he does, he doesn’t stop. He thinks about how passionate Donghyuck is, how he was wreathed in smiles and his eyes crinkled in mirth—Renjun thinks of his eyes sparkle when he laughs and how he always had a wide smile on after teasing Renjun. His mind flashes back to that moment in the cafe, when they had the talk, how ragged Donghyuck looked—how his eyes were tear-stricken and his perpetual smile was gone. Something in Renjun recoils at the image in his head. 

He blinks trying to get that day out of his head—he tries to think back to today or any day these past few weeks. Renjun remembers coffee hangouts, dinner, lunch, diner hangouts, cake hangouts, midnight hangouts—there’s a string of memories there; memories of laughter, eating bingsu outside of the laboratory as they sat on the floor, Donghyuck dissing his cheesecake order at Dunk Shot, Renjun beating Donghyuck at a game of Pacman at the diner, confusing Kunhang by ordering mocha with strawberry syrup instead of chocolate, drinking a can of beer at the corner store under the red and blue neon lights as they laughed to Donghyuck’s foreign horror stories and Renjun’s misadventures. This time, something blooms in Renjun’s chest—burning and loud. His heart rings in his ears.

Renjun shifts and his eyes land on the teddy bear on the corner of his bed—Donghyuck bought him that, he remembers—Renjun remembers Donghyuck giving it to him with a smile, a few months before he left for Japan. He remembers him saying “it kinda looks like me, right?’, giggling at how the bear had moles on his cheeks too. 

“Belated birthday gift,” Donghyuck smiled. “Something to remember me by.”

His chest burns brighter and hotter, and Renjun is finally hit with the realization.

He’s still in love with Donghyuck.

—

The burning is a lot more bearable after that. Renjun doesn’t even notice his wrist has stopped itching.

—

“I’ll have one Moscow Mule,” Renjun says leaning into the bar. The bartender smiles at him before turning back to make his drink. 

It’s a Saturday. The bar was a little crowded tonight—looks like an organization went out to celebrate an event. Their jolly loud chatting floated over Tessa Violet’s voice, and it lifted Renjun’s own mood when he heard them gossip and laugh.

“One Moscow Mule,” the bartender says with a smile, placing the glass in front of him. Renjun smiles back at him before making his way back to Jeno and Jaemin.

Renjun slides into the booth, happy as he takes a sip from his drink. “What are you talking about?” he asks when he realizes they were both in the middle of a conversation.

“Mario Maker,” Jeno says before taking a sip from Renjun’s drink. He grimaces at Renjun as Jaemin laughs at his face.

“Jeno was complaining about the 100 lives,” Jaemin says. A smile still on his lips before he takes a sip of his own drink. “You have shitty taste, Jeno.”

“I just don’t understand how both of you can drink vodka with ginger,” Jeno says as he eyes the glass.

“Shut up,” Renjun rolls his eyes at him. “Also 100 lives is enough, you’re just bad at it.”

“I am not,” Jeno says, sticking his tongue out at Renjun.

“Are too,” Renjun says back, making a face at him. 

“I’m just saying 100 lives with 16 levels?” Jeno says with a certain emphasis that makes something funny bubble in Renjun’s stomach. He laughs at Jeno before taking another sip of his drink. 

“There’s a way to gain lives again you know?” Renjun teases him. He knows Jeno knows but this is supremely entertaining to Renjun.

“Shut up,” Jeno glares at him. “I know there is, it’s just _hard_.”

Their bickering continues with Jaemin just smiling at them. He laughs and smiles at some comments but most of his time is spent on his phone texting. Renjun has an inkling on who he’s texting exactly.

Renjun’s guess is proven to be true when a quarter before 11, Donghyuck slides into their booth with a smile. His smile brighter than the purple lights of the bar.

“Hey,” Donghyuck says, once he’s fully sat down. Jeno and Jaemin smile at him before falling back into their conversation about combining Pokemons or whatnot, Renjun didn’t know—he’s self-aware enough to say he stopped paying attention when he spotted Donghyuck walk into the bar.

“Hi,” Renjun smiles at him. Donghyuck smiles back before turning his attention to the bickering pair. He ignores the burning in his chest and Jaemin’s quick glance at him to focus on their conversation

“What the hell are you guys talking about?” Donghyuck laughs when it started to get intense— _aka_ Jaemin’s voice was starting to overpower the music playing at the bar and Jeno was just letting it happen.

“Pokemon,” Jeno deadpans at him before fixing his glare on Jaemin, who has not stopped talking to answer Donghyuck. Renjun stifles a laugh before finishing his Mule.

“You got Jaemin shouting—over _Pokemon_?” 

“Yes,” Jaemin shuts Donghyuck up. The serious glint in Jaemin’s eyes is enough to make Renjun burst out in laughter. “Pokemon combinations is an important topic.”

“I don’t think it is, Jaem,” Renjun laughs.

“I will not take any comments from a Ditto fucker.” Donghyuck bursts out laughing—laughter soaring over the white noise before he muffles himself. Renjun fixes a glare at Jaemin, ignoring the way his heart burns at the sound. 

“I hope you choke on your drink.”

The conversation shifts as does the music. It turns mellow, Bruno Major’s voice seeping into the atmosphere of the bar. The crowd of students near them have toned down, and the vibrancy of everything has shifted to a three. Renjun falls in love with it as he leans on his seat, taking in the energy. He closes his eyes for a moment, clenching this memory in his fist making sure it doesn’t fall through his fingers.

Jaemin laughs, loud and rambunctious, Jeno following suit after. There’s a quiet giggle after, that falls in tune with the music causing Renjun to open his eyes. His eyes focus after a second and fixates on Donghyuck in front of him. He looks ethereal under the purple lights—it compliments him as it clings to the sheen of his skin. Renjun smiles to himself, seeing Donghyuck’s relaxed disposition. 

Donghyuck must’ve sensed him staring because he glances at Renjun with a smile and a raised eyebrow.

“You sure you’ll be sober enough for tomorrow?”

“For you?” The blood raising towards his ear almost distracts him from the way Donghyuck blushes, faintly. “Always.”

“You want a drink?” Renjun asks, after a few moments. Donghyuck’s smile widens before leaning into their table.

“You gonna buy me one?” His tone is playful but Renjun’s throat tangles at it.

“Sure,” Renjun hums, trying to act calm against the rapid beating of his heart. “Whaddya want?”

Donghyuck hums for a second, in thought before settling on something. “I’ll just come with.”

“Okay,” Renjun nods, sliding out of the booth. He straightens his button down as he waits for Donghyuck to follow. Donghyuck stands and gestures for Renjun to lead the way. They get closer to the bar when Donghyuck’s eyes widen and a smile appears on his lips.

He rushes over to the counter, practically buzzing—Renjun hates the way something sour pools in his chest at the sight of seeing Donghyuck that excited for somebody. “Johnny!” Donghyuck exclaims, bouncing in front of the bartender. Something irrational in him bristles at the name.

“Junnie!” Donghyuck grabs his wrist to pull him to the bar. “Junnie meet Johnny hyung, Taeyong’s friend. Johnny hyung meet Junnie, my best friend.” _Best friend_. Oh how one word can twist his heart until it was nothing more than pain.

Johnny just laughs at Donghyuck’s enthusiasm before reaching out a hand towards him. “Moscow Mule,” he says with a charismatic smile. Renjun makes an executive decision to flush out whatever sour pool he had in his stomach, ignore his twisted heart, and play along with Johnny—who, by the second, turned more and more non-threatening.

“Mr. Bartender,” Renjun says with a smile, taking his hands in his. Johnny laughs—head back, wild smile—as he shook their hands. 

“Dorks,” Donghyuck snorts. And something in his stomach bubbled in euphoria.

—

“So the screw at the top is called the Lockscrew—it's how you feed pellets into the Catalyst Chamber. The Catalyst Chamber is where you put the palladium pellets in?” Renjun says, pointing each it on the screen of his laptop while Donghyuck nods at him in confirmation.

“Yup.” Donghyuck nods. “So how do you get rid of the oxygen in the Jar?”

“You use the Gas-Pak and the palladium pellets,” Renjun says, eyes shut in concentration—trying to remember the chemical in it that reduces oxygen. “The palladium pellets form water while the Gas-Pak contains chemicals like sodium bicarbonate and citric acid that combines with the water and it turns into dihydrogen and carbon dioxide gasses.”

“How do you know when the Jar is finally oxygen-free?”

“You’ll have to put a methylene blue strip to the side of the Jar.” Renjun looks at Donghyuck with a raised brow—the proud smile on Donghyuck’s face makes his insides burn. “The strip will turn colorless once there’s no oxygen.”

“Oh! Hell yeah!” Donghyuck shouts, smile so wide, Renjun is terrified it’ll break his face. “You got it!”

“We still have to do the Glovebox,” Renjun says. He can’t help but smile when Donghyuck’s is so infectious with the way it almost drips pride and happiness. It doesn’t help that his stomach is coiling and his ears feel like they’re on fire.

“But that’s easy peasy too,” Donghyuck teases him—he nudges Renjun with his shoulder, smile grown softer. “With the way you’re working, you’ll ace your assessment tomorrow,” Donghyuck whispers—it’s featherlike as the words ring thunderous against Renjun’s ears. He shifts closer, his face almost a breath away from Renjun’s—the way his heart is beating and the clog at the end of his throat is forming, it’s a wonder Renjun can concentrate and hear what Donghyuck says next.

“You can do absolutely anything you put your mind to, Junnie—” a soft smile and a breath of a whisper. “I believe in you.”

Renjun wonders, in the back of his mind—if maybe, this could be a distance he’ll get used to someday.

—

**xuxi :/**

_JUNNIE_

_GOODLUCK WITH YOUR ASSESSMENT_

_IM ROOTING FOR YOU_

_COFFEE LATER_

—

  
  


**emotional support boy**

_JUNNIE_

_GOOD LUCK_

_YOU CAN DO IT_

_I’ll buy you drinks if you do good!!_

—

**markie-poo**

_if i get a grade higher than 96_

_you’ll buy me a whole party bottle of vodka_

_sur_

_gud luck !!!!!!!!!!_

_ur spelling_

_ew_

—

**nono :3**

_With the power invested in me,_

_I proclaim that You, Huang Renjun, will absolutely ACE your test_

_ur a loser_

_Fail then_

—

**lele pons**

_jisung told me to wish u good luck_

_?_

_good luck_

_u can do it or sumn_

_ur enthusiasm >>>>> _

_hey_

_do good_

_one of us has to graduate_

_ur fucking graduating lele_

_O.o_

_u said it not me_

_ur a menace_

—

**mouse**

_Good Luck, Hyung!!_

_You can do it!!_

_I believe in you!!_

—

**sicheng ge**

  
  


_JUNNIE!!_

_GOOD LUCK!!_

_thank u ge!!_

_also, what’s this about donghyuck ???????_

_um_

_i gtg ge_

_???????_

—

Renjun doesn’t receive a text from Donghyuck.

He doesn’t think much of it—really, he doesn’t. Renjun believes that Donghyuck isn’t obligated to wish him good luck or text him in general. But he can’t help it when his mind suddenly hyper focuses on it and everything suddenly feels like a pool of hazy colors amidst the one thought that is Donghyuck. 

His leg jumps up and down as he waits outside the laboratory in a line of 15 people. Renjun tries to focus on the trees displayed outside the window of the Biology hallways—he muses, that the trees have now gone barren as Winter grows closer and closer. Every single person on campus was now adorned with different variations of hoodies, sweaters, beanies, or coats—hands wrapped around a thermos or a paper cup filled with coffee or tea. Renjun wishes he was smart enough to get himself a cup of mocha before he made his way to North Campus. 

“Huang Renjun,” Mr. Kim calls out. It snaps him out of his thoughts as his palms sweat in anxiety and his thoughts almost drown under the perpetual buzz that fills his head. 

Renjun makes his way inside the laboratory, praying to the stars to be on his side.

—

“Good job, Mr. Huang,” Mr. Kim says once Renjun places his paper on the pile—a fatherly smile on his face. He bows to him slightly, adorning a small smile, as thanks. Renjun grabs his bag on one of the seats before he makes his way out the laboratory. His phone _pings!_ At the door—his hand on the knob. Renjun hums in curiosity before fishing it out of his pocket.

—

  
  


**hyuckie**

  
  


_meet me outside_

_???????_

—

“What the hell?” Renjun laughs once he sees Donghyuck leaning on the wall in front of the laboratory. A bright smile on his face as he walks up to Renjun—in his hand is a carton with two coffee cups. _Visionary_. The smile on Renjun’s face grows impossibly wider.

“What? No hi or hello?” Donghyuck says with a smile. “I even got you mocha and everything.”

“Fine,” Renjun says. He feels so giddy, his cheeks are turning sore. “Hi Donghyuck, how are you?”

“Well, Renjun, I’m good.” Donghyuck takes one of the cups and gives it to Renjun with a mocking bow that pulls a giggle out of Renjun’s lips. “How about you? How was the assessment?” His smile grows softer on the edges, eyes filled with concern—trying to look for any sign of distress in Renjun’s eyes. Blood rushes to his ears.

“I think,” Renjun breathes in the aroma of the mocha in his hands before taking a sip. The warm drink flows against the current of his ice cold blood and he feels himself relax from the stress of the assessment. “I did good.”

“Yeah?” The concern and worry dissipates from Donghyuck’s eyes, leaving only drops as he scans Renjun’s face. His hand reaches up to brush away bits of Renjun’s bangs—his fingers leave a blazing trail and his body almost defrosts right there and then. Renjun almost says something but he has a feeling fire will flow out of his mouth—so he opts to nodding softly instead. “That’s good.”

“I brought my car,” Donghyuck nods his head to the side. “Let’s go.”

Renjun hum, taking a drink. He follows him to the parking lot before he asks. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.” 

The wink Donghyuck sets his whole body on fire, draining out every bit of ice and anxiety in his system.

—

“The wisteria tree?”

Renjun looks at Donghyuck as he parks the car in front of the Math building. He turns to him with a small smile, killing the engine. Something in Renjun’s chest twists at the memory of the last time they visited the wisteria tree.

“Yup,” Donghyuck hums and takes out the keys, unlocking the door.

“I don’t think the wisteria has flowers right now,” Renjun says, observing the trees surrounding the Math building are a mirage of orange and reds—no greenery in sight.

“I know,” Donghyuck says, taking off his seatbelt. He opens the car door, a rush of cool air blows inside the car and Renjun tugs his hoodie closer in an effort for warmth. “But I know how you feel about jumping on leaves during Autumn.”

Renjun makes a curious sound as he gets out of the car. He looks over at Donghyuck, who had done the same. “Jumping on leaves?”

Donghyuck smiles at him—wide and almost manic. “Perfect way to destress, right?”

The twist in his chest tightens and somehow—the tiny voice inside his head that dominated his head during the assessment in anxiety and was now an echo of what it once was, diminishes completely at the sight of Donghyuck’s smile.

“Perfect way to destress.”

—

It takes two week. It takes a whole fourteen days—in those fourteen days, the chill turns colder until it perfectly solidifies into crystal snowflakes that fall softly from the sky. In fourteen days, the months have turned into December and the trees are almost as barren as their dormitory. A lot of students have started to pack for the Holiday break that was going to start next Friday, marked by the Holiday bonfire that was happening the night before.

In those fourteen days, Renjun had spent every hour writing essays, taking his assessments in his other subjects, and hanging out with friends. He spent more days than he cared to count exploring with Donghyuck, studying for exams with him, restaurant-hopping, cafe-hopping, playing UNO at the park in the middle of Central Campus under ancient lamp posts that look like they were going to break any second. Every minute, every hour—Jaemin warns him sometime in between at how cruel Renjun was being to himself. He says what he was doing was torture, knowing that Renjun had no plans of confessing. Renjun argues that he will, one day, someday. Jaemin says the moment he confesses, he’ll run. He bites his tongue from saying he isn’t Donghyuck.

Nonetheless, it takes two week. It’s a winter Monday when Renjun receives the email. He was with Donghyuck, taking a stroll in South Campus—they had just bought frozen yogurt; Donghyuck had chocolate sprinkles while Renjun had gummy bears—when his phone _pings!_ He stops and fumbles his phone out of his pocket.

Renjun almost drops it on the snow when he sees what the notification was.

“Junnie?” Donghyuck says, spoon in mouth, stopping a couple of steps away from Renjun. He doesn’t even have it in him to feel endeared because holy _fucking_ shit, his results. “You good?”

Renjun just stares at him, the grip on his phone tightening at the anxiety coursing through his veins. Tendrils of disappointment almost take a hold of his mind as he breathes heavily through his nose, trying desperately to clog the doubt drifting through his brain. He knew he had done a passable job—hell, at the moment of taking the assessment, he thought he did an amazing job. Renjun even tinkered with the idea of getting close to a perfect score. This is irrational—what he is thinking, at this very moment, is irrational. He tries to remember that as his breathing grew ragged.

“Junnie.” The word snaps him out of his thoughts—Donghyuck’s hand is on his back, his face a painting of concern, worry and a tinge of panic. “Are you okay?” Renjun feels his tongue grow in size and he can’t speak a word. So instead he passes the phone to Donghyuck in hopes that he gets the message.

Donghyuck takes it without a word, hand lifting from his back. He reads over the notification and his eyes widen as Renjun’s phone lets out another _ping!_

“Wait a second,” Donghyuck says, passing Renjun’s phone back to Renjun and fishes his phone out of his own pocket. He unlocks it and—“holy shit.”

“What?” Renjun grits out from his teeth as he recollects his senses.

“Junnie, our grades are out.”

—

They take refuge on a bench in the park they were taking a stroll in. Renjun feels like his legs are jelly and his brain is just white noise against the sound of the winds blowing and the snow falling. He has his phone in his hand, unlocked and ready for the Gmail app to be opened; Donghyuck is beside him, phone in hand and unlocked. They nod at each other as a signal and Renjun’s heartbeat is almost tangible with the way it echoes in his ears.

Renjun opens the app—he sees the email on top of the whole thing, and his heartbeat turns _deafening_. He opens the email, and scrolls pass the mass of texts informing him of the holiday break and the Holiday bonfire—fingers stop at the tabular part of the email, eyes scanning over the numbers. 

His heartbeat stops and his heart falls to his stomach. _Fuck_.

Beside him, Donghyuck lets out a loud _holy shit!_ As he almost stands up in excitement. He turns to him and Renjun’s ribcage crushes in itself from his rapid breathing because holy _fucking shit_ —

“Junnie?” Renjun’s head snaps towards Donghyuck, drinking in his manic eyes and the happiness dripping from his smile.

“1.4.”

“Overall?”

Renjun nods.

Donghyuck shouts in excitement before enveloping him in a bone-crushing hug and Renjun—Renjun lets out a drunk laugh as he grows light headed from happiness.

—

They celebrate that night. They celebrate because Donghyuck got a 1.2, Jeno passed his DevBio class, Jaemin’s grades qualified him to TA next year. They celebrate because it feels like they were all floating in Cloud 9 and the world was just as good as everyone says it was. 

1 AM finds them in a club outside of campus, downtown of the city. The night finds them on the dancefloor, dancing to Beyonce—carefree and happy. It finds them taking shots by the bar, laughing at euphoria-ridden memories, talking over one another as they almost jump up and down in happiness.

“One semester closer to our dream, boys,” Jaemin says, his tone rising above the blaring of the music. He raises his shot glass to the heavens and they all follow in suit—limbs heavy, glasses clashing, spirits dripping but they didn’t care. Not with the future ahead of them.

“Cheers!” Renjun yells. Donghyuck hollers while Jeno downs back his shot. 

“Let’s go party!” Jeno shouts, dragging Donghyuck with him to the dance floor.

The strobe lights pan out in the club, the white rays stick to the sweat of their skin as it flashes. Renjun feels the built up tension in his body seep away, slowly but surely. He feels his limbs lighten as he dances from person to person—hands up in the air, sway of the hips. He closes his eyes and memorizes the feeling of losing himself to the bodies beside him and nothing else. On the dance floor, he was nothing but another body in the ocean of consciousness. Renjun dances and dances—sometime between the first song and now, he loses Jaemin from beside him but he doesn’t mind—as long as no one tries anything, he can stay in peace.

3 AM finds Renjun losing his breath—he needs another drink, he thinks. He finally opens his eyes, blinking to get used to the lights again.

The sea of bodies was easy to get lost into but the way out was harder to find. He pushes against the bodies to reach the bar. It takes time. It takes an embarrassing amount of effort but he makes it. Renjun makes his way to the bar—leaning against it, he calls out for the bartender. 

“One bottle of Hite.”

“Opened?”

Renjun hums as he nods to the guy. It takes a few minutes but the guy disappears to the back of the bar before appearing again with a bottle of Hite. He opens it in front of Renjun and Renjun nods at him in thanks.

“Thanks.”

“No problem,” the guy says with a smile before he entertains another customer. Renjun takes it as his cue to turn around—to observe the souls dancing. He takes a drink as he scans the club, looking for his friends. He sees Jaemin in the middle of the dance floor, still dancing, completely lost to the rhythm and the beat. Renjun feels himself smile, Jaemin deserves to be carefree for an evening; Jeno, Renjun notices, is closer to the DJ, talking to a guy with a small smile—that makes Renjun let out a drunken giggle—the fun he’ll have teasing Jeno about that one.

Renjun looks around again, and his bottle almost slips from his grip.

3:14 AM finds Donghyuck in a dark corner of the club, near the bar, making out with someone.

3:14 AM also finds Renjun running out of the club—bottle in his hand and his heart breaking into pieces.

—

_Ring! Ring!_

“Heyo.”

“Junnie—”

“Donghyuck? Are you okay? Why are you crying?”

“Can you come over please?”

“Of course—do you need anything?”

“Just you please.”

“Okay, I’ll be there ASAP.”

—

3:19 AM.

“I’m in love with you, Hyuckie.” _And it hurts. It hurts so so much_ . Renjun’s grip on the bottle tightens. The tears fall from his face, and he knows he probably doesn’t look very put together or presentable but he can’t bring himself to care. He brings a fist to his chest and hits himself as hard as he can with his limbs all limp. Pain, he needs _pain_ , to distract himself from the sharp ache in his chest.

“Jun—” He hears Donghyuck start but Renjun stops him, holding a hand up. No part of Renjun wants to hear Donghyuck’s rejection; he doesn’t think his heart can take it right now. His head leans on the wall behind him, trying not to look at Donghyuck. The thought of Donghyuck’s expression makes his throat burn and his heartbreak even more. Tears keep coming, and he can’t stop them.

“I’m so fucking in love with you, Hyuck,” Renjun forces out with a hiccup. “I remember it you know. Second semester of our first year. You smiled one day and I fucking— I couldn’t stop myself—” He laughs, bitter and biting. “I just fell in love with you and I never stopped loving you.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry—” Over and over again, Renjun recites it like a litany, shaking his head. He breaks and breaks and breaks. He wishes he won’t remember this in the morning, wishes the bottle in his hand was an elixir to forget instead. He wishes and wishes and wishes. 

It’s a cold night in December when Renjun breaks down in front of Donghyuck at an alleyway beside a rundown downtown club. All it took was passing his assessments and seeing Donghyuck with someone again for it to happen.

—

Renjun hasn’t heard from Donghyuck in days. 

It had been ten days since his fight with Xuxi, ten days since he called Renjun, crying—seven since their trip to the wisteria tree. 

Renjun wasn’t sure what he was expecting but it wasn’t this. It definitely wasn’t radio silence.

He was laying on his bed, Jaemin was out—tutoring, he rushed out with three books in hand and his laptop. Renjun was scrolling through Instagram when he saw Donghyuck’s notification. _An Instagram story_. Brows scrunched, head ridden with curiosity—he opened it.

A black and white picture of a ticket with an airport in the background. Two airplane emojis and a pin location of Osaka, Japan.

Renjun didn’t realize it then but that was the day he lost Donghyuck completely.

—

Renjun ignores Donghyuck. He ignores him because that’s what he does best. Jaemin was right; the moment he confessed to Donghyuck, he ran. Renjun couldn’t help it—Donghyuck wasn’t interested and there was absolutely nothing Renjun could do about that. 

So he keeps his distance—because that’s the only way he knows how to keep what they had without ruining it further.

Jaemin doesn’t exactly agree.

“You have to talk to him, Junnie.”

He tugs the blanket over their heads, snuggling closer to Renjun. Sufjan Stevens croons in the distance, playing in their speakers. It’s dark, it’s stuffy, it’s peaceful. Renjun feels like he’s going to explode.

“I can’t,” it comes out barely a whisper. “He doesn’t need to know.”

“But that’s the thing.” Jaemin’s eyes are so full of sympathy. This close it makes Renjun want to vomit. “He already knows.”

“You already technically told him.” Renjun knows. He hardly forgets when he drinks. Sometimes, he wishes he could.

“You have to have a conversation with Donghyuck, Junnie.” Jaemin’s hand reaches for his hair, fingers sifting through his hair slowly. Renjun closes his eyes, soft. He doesn’t want to think about it but he knows Jaemin would insist on it later. 

“You don’t deserve to suffer just because you fell in love with him.” A touch to the cheek. “It isn’t fair for him, and especially not for you.” He feels his thumb lightly press against his cheek.

“I don’t think I can do it,” Renjun mumbles.

“But you have to.” The touch disappears. He feels a press of lips against his forehead before Jaemin tugs him closer to cuddle.

_But I have to_ , is Renjun’s one fleeting thought before he finally falls asleep.

—

It takes Renjun eight more days to build up the courage. 

At that point, it was the Holiday bonfire, and he had thirty missed calls and fifty messages—all of them from Donghyuck.

Renjun knows they had plans tonight—something about camping out in Jaehyun hyung’s pick-up truck with Sicheng ge, Chenle, Jisung, Xuxi, Mark, Jeno, and Jaemin—everyone in their little crew, even Donghyuck. He had planned to talk to Donghyuck earlier that day but he had lost all his will and drive the moment he stepped foot outside of the door; every step felt like taking a walk in quicksand—so he didn’t get to. Jaemin says it’ll be fine—they’ll make it work. He’ll talk to the rest and make sure they vacate once Donghyuck gets there so that Renjun will get a few minutes alone with Donghyuck.

It’ll be fine. Jaemin says so—the weight in his arms and the pain in his chest says otherwise.

—

The bonfire is alive the moment they got there. Jaehyun hyung’s truck is parked near the bonfire, a cooler and a stack of blankets in his trunk—Sicheng ge was already there, sat on the edge of the truck, drinking a cheap can of beer, watching the tendril of flames reach the sky. Chenle and Jisung were there too—they were both sitting on the roof of the truck, a blanket wrapped around both of them as Jisung nurses a bottle of Breezer while Chenle whispers in his ear about his latest misadventure. Jaehyun hyung was beside Sicheng ge, hollering at the few graduate students making smores near the fire. Jeno waves at them from the inside of the trunk, beer in hand and a big smile on his lips. Him and Jaemin make their way to him in a hurry—a small smile spreads on Renjun’s face at the amount of pillows and plushies adorning the inside of the trunk.

“What’s up?” Jaemin asks, clambering into the trunk from the wheel. Renjun follows suit as Jeno pats the space beside him, his grin still as wide. He lands beside Jeno with a huff, letting out a curse before taking the plushie nearest to him and taking it into his arms.

“Donghyuck’s going to be late,” Jeno says instead, a sad glint in his eyes didn’t go unnoticed by Renjun nor was the subtle glance towards him. An ache flashes through his chest. “Xuxi and Mark are too because Xuxi has to pick up Mark and apparently, Mark was having complications with his landlord.”

“What’s with his landlord?” Jaemin scrunches his eyebrows—he maneuvers to the spot behind him as he tries to open the cooler to get a drink.

“Something about rent or whatnot—I don’t really know,” Jeno shrugs, moving forward a bit to accommodate Jaemin. “Mark just said not to worry about it because he has it handled.”

“That’s good,” Jaemin mumbles, passing a bottle of Breezer to Renjun while he gets himself a can of beer. “What about Donghyuck?” Renjun doesn’t miss Jaemin’s glance either.

Jeno’s tone becomes worried. “I don’t know—” he shrugs helplessly. “He didn’t say anything. Just said he was going to be late.” Something about the way Jeno says it implies something that makes Renjun’s chest constrict and the blood in his veins turn into fire—it pulls a frustrated reaction from Renjun.

“What do you mean he didn’t say anything?” Renjun finally croaks out—his throat is numb from the cold and he hasn’t been talking the past few days. His eyes narrow at Jeno in apprehension. “What do you mean, Jen?”

“I meant exactly that,” Jeno finally looks at him—his eyes are a nebulous of emotions; concern, guilt, worry—Renjun doesn’t really know what to make of it. “He didn’t say anything. I promise, Jun,” his voice almost sounds pleading.

There’s a beat of silence where they all stay quiet—Jaehyun hyung’s hollers fill the air, and the whispers above them from Chenle and Jisung have gone still. The tension in Sicheng ge’s shoulders suggests that he’d been listening too. It’s as if the world stopped turning for a minute before—“you don’t think he’s coming, do you?” A whisper against the current of the fire in front of him. It was blinding—good thing, Renjun kept his attention on Jeno.

“No.” Chenle lets out a curse from above them. There’s pity somewhere in Jeno’s eyes but it all feels hazy against the ringing in his ears and the block in his throat..

“The fuck you mean no?” Jaemin almost shouts. 

“Jaemin—” 

“No, Sicheng hyung. Enough’s enough,” Jaemin says, taking out his phone. “The both of you need to talk,” he says, pointedly at Renjun but all Renjun can do is open the Breezer in his hand and take a long sip.

—

Somewhere between Jaemin’s phone call with Donghyuck and now, Xuxi and Mark arrive. Xuxi takes one look at him and immediately coaxes Renjun to accompany him to the food stand at the outskirts of the crowd. Mark just smiles at him, dripping in pity—Renjun almost drowns in it. 

Somewhere between Xuxi and Mark arriving and Xuxi buying a reluctant Renjun candy and Xuxi buying cotton candy almost the size of his head, Donghyuck arrives. Renjun sees him as they make their way to the truck and he almost bolts— _almost_. Xuxi has to tighten the grip on Renjun’s wrist to ground him. He looks bad—maybe as bad as Renjun felt; his eyes were sunken, hair messy, and he was only adorned in a lousy looking sweater and a worn down denim jacket—it looks like nothing against the cold. 

But he is still Donghyuck—still the Donghyuck Renjun adores to the moon and back, no matter how different he might look, Renjun can still feel himself fall harder and harder, every second he gets closer. 

Donghyuck sees them after a few minutes Renjun notices him—he sends him a small smile, Donghyuck looks like he’s on the brink of crying. Renjun thinks he is too—and he sends a small smile back.

Xuxi leaves his side, somewhere along the way, making his way to Mark—who got closer to the bonfire, trying to scorch his marshmallow. Renjun doesn’t mind—he has to fiddle with the edge of his coat and recite a mantra to not run in his head over and over again but he doesn’t mind—and he gets there, in front of Donghyuck, eventually. 

(Renjun’s feet feel like anchors by the time he makes it.)

“Hey,” Renjun whispers. This close Donghyuck’s hooded eyes were uneven and ridden in red—a small voice in the back of Renjun’s mind reminds him his eyes look the same. But the easy-going smile Donghyuck usually brandishes has never looked this fake in a long time.

“Hey,” Donghyuck whispers back. He nods his head to the side. “Do you want to go on a walk?”

Renjun lets out a sigh, rubbing his sweaty shaking palms against his jeans. “Sure. Lead the way.”

  
  


They make their way to the outskirts of the crowd in silence. Renjun observes the way the orange glow of the bonfire fades as they get further away from the center—he also thinks of ways he can start the conversation; the heavy buzzing in his head and the tightening in his chest don’t help but Renjun makes do. He thinks of what to say between puffing small white clouds and taking glances at Donghyuck, who only looks ahead. 

The pair stop in front of Donghyuck’s car, parked at the empty lot beside the park. Donghyuck takes a deep breath before he finally looks at Renjun—Renjun’s breathing goes ragged.

“I’m sorry.” Renjun says it. He finally says it—Donghyuck’s mouth opens in confusion and Renjun cuts him off. “I’m sorry for doing that to you—for being rude to you at the start, for dumping that whole confession on you, for ignoring you afterwards. I’m sorry.”

“I’m also sorry for whatever the hell I did that made you run away.” Donghyuck’s eyebrows shoot up—but it isn’t enough to stop Renjun. “I’m really sorry. If I made you uncomfortable, I’m sorry. Just—” he takes a shaky breath, his chest constricts. “Stop running please, Donghyuck.” His vision is growing blurry. “I just—it sounds hypocritical because I ran away too when I confessed but I just needed time. I needed time because it’s been a long time secret for me and I never got to let it out. But I’m done now, I’m done running now and please, if you could just stop running so we can talk about this. I just can’t lose you as my best friend. I lost you once already and I can’t lose you again—”

“I left because of you.” And god, Renjun didn’t think his heart could break more than it already did.

“But I didn’t leave because of whatever reason you’re thinking,” Donghyuck whispers as he takes a step closer to Renjun. So close, Renjun feels the cold puffs of his breath against the heat of his cheeks. Up close, he loses himself to the shimmer of Donghyuck’s eyes. 

“I left because I was in love with you—” everything comes to a screeching halt. Suddenly, the world hits pause; no hollers from the bonfire, no falling of snow, no lights of the vendors. Suddenly, it was just him and Donghyuck under the light of the moon and nothing else. “I left because I was a coward.”

“Because I was scared that you didn’t feel the same and I would ruin our friendship. I couldn’t lose you—I couldn't taint our relationship. So I tried to preserve it,” Donghyuck searches something in his eyes. “I left so that the memory of our friendship could be something frozen in time—something that I can look back on fondly.”

“The familial reason bullshit I gave you in the cafe? That was fake.” A breath of a bitter laugh. “I made that up. Because I was scared. The reason me and Xuxi fought?” Renjun nods. “It was because Xuxi realized I was in love with you. He was encouraging me to confess to you.”

“We didn’t break up because of just some petty fight—we broke up because I just wasn’t in love with him anymore. I was in love with you and he knew.” Renjun’s mind races back to what Xuxi said in the cafe.

“Jeno didn’t know and he knew about the Japan exchange,” Donghyuck shrugs helplessly. “The perfect person to keep in touch with. To check in on you and the crew.” He lets out a mirthless chuckle before he looks up towards the sky as if he was dreading what he was going to say next.

“I wasn’t planning on reconnecting,” Donghyuck says, finally—looking Renjun in the eye again. “Mark was an accident and Xuxi was for closure. But you—” he lets out a puff. “I didn’t expect you.”

“I had no idea you were the person Mr. Lee was talking about. He didn’t really say much but the moment I saw you enter the classroom, I just knew I was fucked all over again.”

Renjun’s thoughts are racing—thoughts were mixing, overlapping, running over each other. Nothing is making sense anymore and Renjun is just itching to envelope Donghyuck in a hug.

But first—“the guy at the club?”

“A dumb decision,” Donghyuck whispers with a shake of his head. “I just felt so lonely seeing you in the middle of the dance floor.” Something glazes over his eyes. “You looked mesmerizing and I was just a coward.”

“I’m sorry, Renjun. I really am. I’m so so sorry for everything that I did. I just—” he chokes. “I don’t think I’m a very smart person when it comes to love.” The sad smile Donghyuck adorns is enough to snap Renjun from his stupor.

“Can I give you a hug?” Donghyuck’s eyes soften. He nods, slowly.

Renjun envelopes him in a hug, holding him impossibly close to him—he shuts his eyes, memorizing the feeling of Donghyuck’s racing heartbeat against his chest and the delicate but stern way Donghyuck has his arms wrapped around Renjun. 

Minutes pass before Renjun pulls away—only a miniscule distance away; he observes the stars in Donghyuck’s eyes, the way his hair glows celestial bronze under the moonlight, his moles that forms the Ursa Minor. Renjun’s eyes land on Donghyuck’s worried lips before he looks him back in the eye.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Yes,” Donghyuck whispers, soft and breathless.

Somewhere in between their history and their future, Renjun kisses Donghyuck between the white glow of the moonlight and the orange glow of the bonfire.

**Author's Note:**

> catch me on twitter!!
> 
> [@fIowerpecker](http:/twitter.com/fIowerpecker)
> 
> or scream at me on cc!!
> 
> [@junle](http:/curiouscat.me/junle)


End file.
